Outcasts
by Tracy137
Summary: What if someone was at the fort who was as much an outcast as a certain scout? what if everyone feared her as much as they did him? What then? TristanOC WIP Rated for language and violence.
1. Animal

**_Disclaimer: I don't own King Arthur or any of its characters. The King Arthur movie is the property of Touchstone Pictures. So there is no copyright infringement intended, nor do I intend to tick anyone off – so please don't sue me, I'm poor enough already and all you'll get is a rustbucket car and a load of rescue animals that make Tristan look like a cakewalk! But I do own the story itself and the characters of Kit and other non-King Arthurian types…. :O) I've tried to use real Sarmatian tribal names as much as possible here; additional tattoos mentioned and any sayings/spells are invented by me though._**

**_I see we cannot reply to reviewers on our chapters anymore and for that I'm sorry. However, I will endeavour to answer you as per the new regime where possible. Thank you to my regular R&R's hope you like this story too._**

_**This is my seventh King Arthur fanfic; it is still based on the 2004 film.. I do not intend to rip off any other writer (I just can't wade through so many pages of stories to check – they keep growing daily - I'd lose the will to live!) so if this premise has been done before I'm sorry, I just hope mine is different enough for it not to be too boring. But if I digress from the movie and stuff a little, don't shoot me as I'm old and the brain (what little I have) is not what it used to be. Plus I might also change things to fit the story a little better –sorry. But that is what artistic license is all about! LOL**_

_**I've been in hospital and was quite poorly – have now got major writer's block on my other fics right now; my best friend was saying out much she loved the darker stuff I did with 'Little Bird and the Hawk' and really wanted me to do this story – so here it is. I don't know how long it will be and this one, too, will be a Tristan/OC pairing; though I will obviously bring the others into it too. In truth, how could I leave them out?**_

**_It's going to be fairly dramatic/romantic (I can't help it!) and maybe have a _little_ humour, in places anyway….. It is nothing but fluff, so if you don't like romance and stuff please don't read it. The main character, Kit, is abrupt and says only a little – though she understands the world, unlike Tari in 'Wild Child' and is not mute like Jules 'Little Bird….'. _**

_**This story is before they set out to get Germanius' little pet, Alecto. It starts before the film - the last mission, etc will still take place, but things will be different, including the end; hope that's clear – well, clearer than mud anyway!**_

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**Anyway…on with the show!**_

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**OUTCASTS**_

_**Chapter One – Animal**_

She flew round and round with her blades, almost as if dancing and Eight watched in awe as the pretty lady twirled and pirouetted cutting down imaginary foe in the stables. Her blades almost whistled as they whisked through the air; every so often she would rub one edge against the other, blade against blade – the sound was wonderful, almost as if they sang their own strange song.

The horses stood and watched in rapt attention too, the Andalusian grey that belonged to Tristan was the most attentive it seemed; and the little girl had to stifle a giggle as the horse swayed its head in time to her movements as if truly watching.

Suddenly the woman stopped breathlessly; her dusky blond hair swinging into her eyes – the dark blue orbs narrowed suspiciously and Eight drew further back into the shadows, stifling her gasp.

Slowly though the narrowed eyes ghosted upwards and the 5 year old breathed out silently with relief that she had not been discovered. She watched, rapt, as the two blades were spaced apart as the woman seemed to listen intently, eyes closed as if placing some sound only she could hear and then jabbed her blades upwards………..a loud male shriek rent the air and Eight recognised it as Lancelot.

She saw the woman allow herself a brief smirk, reminding the child of the scout….who was scarier than even she before her.

"What the bloody hell!" He yelled, almost throwing himself down the ladder from the hayloft "Galahad if that was you or Bors then I swear your balls are mine for breakfast!"

He found himself however, confronted with two blades and a pair of very deep blue eyes glaring at him. "Who in Hades are you?"

She hissed at him and swung out with the blades, Eight did not hang around any longer – she would be in trouble if she hurt a knight; and, after she had given her an apple just this day, Eight was not happy about that. If she was aught like Tristan she did not hand out apples lightly. "MA! MA! Come quick, MA!" she yelled as she ran swiftly to the tavern….

However, most of the knights had been milling around and had heard Lancelot shout so were already surrounding the woman when Van skidded into the door "NAY! Leave him girl – leave him. He means thee no harm! He was probably bedding a maid up there……not spying on you!" She yelled at her.

The blade wavered slightly and Lancelot lunged at her, earning himself a deep cut on the arm and the defensive stance once more. "KIT! Please lass, do _not_! They are as proud as you and they will not back down if you corner 'em, no more'n you would." Van cried desperately.

With a growl Kit lowered the blades slightly, but all could see she was still deeply wary. The knights looked on as Lancelot nursed his arm and Van edged forward "remember me telling you about the knights lass? Well this is them." She waved her arm round the men "they mean you no harm lass….most are like you, aye?"

Kit stared hard at Arthur, before sneering at him and glaring at Van "Aye, aye - I know, I know. He is a roman….but only half." She added quickly "he will not harm thee….he will not."

The other looked unconvinced, but waved her blade at the dark knight "oh that is Lancelot…..the one with all the women…."

Kit hissed at him, like an angry cat Arthur mused, and Lancelot stepped back "Nay, lass he beds only those who are willing…truly; I would not lie." another wave, another knight "That there is Gawain – a good lad, and next to him is one who could be his brother; Galahad."

Kit snorted at Galahad, almost derisively Arthur noted, and then waved her blade between Dag and Bors "that one is my lover Bors, I told you of the great brute; and next to him is his best friend – Dagonet." Blue eyes glared at them to start, but softened and they all saw a smile ghost over her face as she stared at them. Van had obviously told her something funny about those two.

Suddenly without turning, her smaller blade flashed behind her and caught Tristan as he came behind her – the point right in front of his throat "nay, nay! That is the scout; remember me telling you of him?" Large blue mistrustful eyes swung round and regarded him "he will not hurt thee so long as you do not threaten him or us….." Van thought for a minute "He loves apples as much you." the small woman nodded at him desperately not to move "he will not harm you Kit – he is like you…..Sarmatian, they all are; well, all except for Arthur, so they will _not_ hurt their own."

The other woman stepped back, lowering her swords only slightly; pressing the blade of one into her cheek indicating her tattoos. Van nodded "Aye that is right. Just like yours; even the same tribe, our scout. They will not hurt you, I swear – not Arthur neither."

The blades lowered some more, but her readiness to fight was still as clear as day. She growled and stalked out, stopping by Van on the way. The men all looked at Bors' lover but then realised the other had disappeared as quick as a mist. Tristan went to follow "Nay, Tris – leave her go; you will not want to tangle swords with that one, mark me." Van caught at his arm.

"If he wants to cut the vixen's throat, bloody let him!" snarled an angry Lancelot; only to earn a cuff from Van.

"_You_ shut your mouth! She has had a crap life thus far, so leave her be! Let me tell you of her before you start trying to kill the poor wench."

"Nay, you will not let her be killed pa – say you will not!" Eight had fetched reinforcements, and Four stepped out of the shadows "She was nice to our Eight and ma not three days past – saved our little 'un here from a randy roman when you lot were out doin' yur soldierin'." The 10 year old said "Say you will not let death be her reward."

Bors looked at Vanora "is that true?"

"Aye – they would have done some bad stuff to our Eight and me if it were not for her…….cut their heads clean off she did." Van smiled.

Bors looked at his elder daughter "Then she will not die at my blade, nor our Dag's."

"_Their_ heads?" Galahad put in "How many were there?"

"There was the one who had hold of our Eight, and then two others; she slaughtered all three in a breath" Van glanced at Tristan "enjoyed it too she did – though you would not know to look at her, until the end. Face and voice as passive as yours; but when they were all dead there was that _smirk_….like she had took pleasure in it." She shuddered.

"She talks?" Arthur was surprised.

"Aye – when she has aught to say, quiet like though she is – she was a slave long time back; and they threatened to cut out her tongue for speaking out of turn, so she speaks quietly even now. Did you not hear her talk to me as she left, after I said you would not harm her?" They all shook their heads; all but the scout.

"_I_ did." Muttered Tristan.

"What she say then?" asked a still irritated Lancelot.

"She said 'not unless Rome commands it – no free will for slaves."

"_I_ am not a _slave_!" roared the dark knight "I never have been!"

"Well, to her what else would you call what we do?" reasoned Gawain "We are given orders by Rome and we carry them out." He turned to Van "You said we were like her; that she is from the same tribe as Tris here."

"Aye, she is Iazyges." Tristan glanced over and Van nodded "she is…..she can even speak your mother tongue. Kept it up – said the roman pigs could take her from the land, but not the land from her." She tapped her chest "in here, she says it is safe."

"Why did you have to reassure her that Lancelot did not take women by force?" Arthur asked quietly, seven pairs of eyes looked expectantly at the small woman.

Once more Four spoke up "she was raped, she sleeps in the stables here and I came to check on her the other night; felt I owed her after she had helped us – she was 'avin' a terrible nightmare; thrashin' round fit to kill she was…..when she sat up sudden like and I found a sword at me throat. Then she realised it were me, and sank back. I gathered from what she was yellin' what had happened and when I asked her outright she nodded. All she said was "four." I guessed that was how many had her."

"Romans?" Arthur asked.

"I do not know Arthur – she never said more about it, and none of us lot have had the guts to ask." The young girl eyed Tristan warily "she scares us as much as he do."

"She do not scare me" Eight piped up at last "she a nice lady and I will not be yous friends if yous hurt her. She gave me an apple, and everythin'." She glared as much like Kit as she could at them, even her pa.

Bors stifled the smirk "you like 'er then my little wench, eh?" he picked her up and hugged her, only now realising how close he had come to losing her, and mayhap her mother.

"I do pa, we all do – do we not Four?" she looked to her older sister for support.

"Aye we do pa, we do. She has met all us little bastards and she is alright. I would not say she loves us, but she tolerates us like he do." She shuddered as she glanced once more at Tristan "though I will not say I are not frightened of her – she is not one I would cross, put it that way. She is too good with those bloody blades of hers."

"How did you find her name out Van?" Arthur asked once more.

"I do not know if it _is_ her name to tell true. That is what folk here call her – Kit or Kitty. Like a cat see, they joke that them blades are her claws; and she growls like a cat – you know how they do when they'm angry. I ain't never seen them blades sheathed and she been here a week now." Van sighed sadly before adding "They also say the name serves an animal like her well."

Arthur nodded "We should go back to the table and discuss this further. She is too dangerous to be just left to roam. Mayhap someone could persuade her to stay at the fort."

"Aye – good luck with that." Four rolled her eyes "everyone roundabout here is too bloody frightened of her to even look sideways at her. We do not even know what she did with the bodies of those Romans her killed." she looked at Arthur askance and whispered "Some say she _ate_ them."

Van cuffed her daughter round the head "and _I_ told you that was bloody rubbish!" she looked at Arthur as Bors smiled ruefully at his elder daughter, too used to such blows himself, as his lover continued "She probably just dumped them in the woods near here. Any Woads what bothered her would have joined them, on that I have no doubt….so she has naught to fear."

"I agree Van; but it still adds weight to any stories about her….." he sighed "Mayhap we should persuade her to stay with _us_ then, you possibly could talk to her? She seems to trust you."

By now they had reached the round table…….at Lancelot and Tristan's places was a bright red, polished apple each.

"Peace offering" Van smiled "she has obviously thought about what I said to her." She glanced at the two knights with a grin "make the most of it boys, she will not do it again; she covets 'er apples more'n Rome covets gold."

Lancelot rolled his eyes with a snort, but ate it anyway. Tristan said and did nothing except slowly devour it; but Van saw the brief softness in his eyes and smiled – that man did adore an apple.

"I will see what I can do Arthur. But mind me, she is a tough 'un. You will have your work cut for you with her…..she do not take orders – in fact she do not take kind to folk at all; keeps herself to herself mainly, I reckon I am the only one she talks to asides my little brood of bastards."

"Mayhap I can speak to her also though - show her we mean well?"

"Doubtful – she do not trust Romans, not nowhere. But who knows - do you want to talk to her now? I know where she goes…"

"Nay…..we have no more missions for a few days – leave it some time for all things to cool and then bring her; what of the day after the morrow?"

"Aye, right enough I reckon – couple of days for tempers to cool would help; for she is fierce prickly on a good day." Van smiled.

0-0-0-0-0-0

So it was that two days later Van was herding an obviously reluctant Kit to the round table.

When the small woman entered, the other held back. They were of similar stature, similar figure – but there the similarities ended. Kit wore no gown, but breeches and shirt; and as all the knights looked on, sure enough her blades were in her hand and they had had reports that that was where they always were just as Van said.

"Kit come in….they will not bite thee." she chided her friend gently.

"I care naught if they do – I will bite back." Was the quiet but bitter reply as dark blue eyes glared mistrustfully round the table.

"Will you sit with us lady?" Arthur asked as they all stood.

Kit glanced round, genuinely looking for another female until realising they meant her. She rolled her eyes "I are not no _lady,_ Roman! I am just me……I will stand." Van sucked her teeth irritatedly and she sighed and intoned "thank you muchly all the same."

"We will not harm you." sighed Lancelot in exasperation; not knowing why they offered the olive branch to such a one as she.

"You will not, true enough; not and keep breathing anyhow." She nodded in agreement, glaring at him. He went to speak and she sighed in irritation "shut up – I care not for your pretty words, so waste no breath on flattery. I see what I am and embrace it."

Arthur stifled the smile at Lance's surprised face "How old are you and what should we call you?"

She considered him for a moment, rather like a cat weighing up if it can kill the bird quickly and not get pecked in the process he felt; and found it not a little unnerving – the only other to stare so resolutely and in such a way was Tristan. Finally she spoke "I am five and thirty winters and call me Kit….that is what all do."

"Is that your given name?" Galahad asked.

"It matters not. Call me Kit, or wench, or…" she paused and stared hard at Lancelot "_Vixen_." His eyes snapped up and she did smile then, albeit briefly "Call me what 'ere you will……." She shrugged and then turned to Arthur "I can go; or am I prisoner?"

He grimaced "You are no prisoner to us; we wish only to have to stay with us – Van considers you friend and we find it better to stick together here. Outsiders do not like us."

"_None_ like _me_ – I care not, I like being alone."

"Why?" Arthur did not like it, she sounded far too much like his scout; but he wondered if mayhap through her he could gain an insight into what Tristan had become.

She shrugged again "It is easier – no one to care for, no one to hurt for, no one to worry when I die." Conversely she finally sat down, resting her blades on her shoulders she went to put her feet on the table but stopped "Who is...Per-ci-val?" she sounded out the name. Obviously she could read a little; barely, but at least a little. That is something the commander before her resolved to put right quickly.

She marked each man and saw the one called Tristan flinch. "He was friend to you then?" He made no move or sound in reply; she stared at him and went to rest her muddy boots deliberately on the name. He tensed and she raised an eyebrow "if he was no friend to you, you should care naught about my boots."

"He was friend." It sounded like it was dragged from him.

"Dead?" her feet still hovered; he still tensed, his eyes only on her feet.

"Dead."

She put her feet back on the floor "Then I will not disrespect his memory so." He relaxed slightly. Deep blue eyes unblinkingly regarded the knights; one looked away, Galahad – she did not miss it.

"You…." she cast about for his name and gave up "...pup, you do not like me?" He continued to stare at the table; she stood "No matter….I will not lose sleep because a pup cannot like a bitch."

She touched Tristan on the shoulder "I have sorrow for your loss…." And she was gone.

Arthur glared at the youngest knight "you disrespected her Galahad; she did not deserve it."

Defiant eyes looked up "You have not heard the stories I have! She is little more than an animal!"

A movement caught Arthur's eye and he saw Tristan striding to the door "Well do I know how that insult hurts one of our number Galahad; and I am angry you should use it so on another with no proof."

Tristan glared at them, knowing it was of him that Arthur spoke first "Animals have no feelings to hurt Arthur, so worry not on my part."

Galahad earned cuffs round the head from both Gawain and Van……

0-0-0-0-0

It was another week before the knights themselves got to see her in action. They knew from Jols she still slept in the stables – Tristan learning it was she that had helped heal the lameness of his horse.

"She did some strange things with some herbs and salves Tris. Made him well in no time flat." The squire smiled "Bloody brute adores her."

"No one approaches him but you and I." Tristan muttered.

"Well that was before and this is now." Jols nodded "coz _she_ bloody can; I seen it with me own eyes."

Tristan sighed in irritation, just as the sound of metal being sharpened caught his ears; he quirked an eyebrow at Jols.

"She is sharpening her swords – I reckon they would split hairs they would. When she ain't using 'em she is either cleanin' or sharpenin' 'em." He smiled.

Tristan nodded "good warrior would." He walked off.

Later that night he and the others were making their way back from the tavern…..well, he and the others were; they just happened to bump into Arthur on his way back from a Christian meeting.

Tristan was the first to see her – out in the training field. Hair flying, doing the same movements and steps that Eight had witnessed. He made sure they stood downwind and in the shadow of the garrison building, so she could not sense they were there.

All the men were transfixed "it is like she is dancing!" whispered a bewitched Galahad.

"Not bad for an animal eh?" Tristan muttered to him.

"I would say she has your knack for killing Tris." Dag murmured in awe.

Suddenly it began to rain – great, fat drops fell and then they heard it. She began to sing, albeit quietly; her arms outstretched, blades twirling like liquid silver in the wet. It did look as if indeed she was dancing as she sang. Arthur had the strangest feeling that if she knew they were there, hidden in the shadows of their barracks wall, she would probably cut them down where they stood; though the reason why escaped him……but he felt she would do it.

They could not hear all the melody only what drifted their way; but they stood and watched as she continued to let the rain pour down on her, now just twirling round in the rain – soaking it up, relaxing even as they stared; unaware of them, of anything…..

Soon her breeches and shirt were clinging to her soaking body and she shivered slightly; she, _finally_, scabbarded her blades; and, picking up her cloak, she swung the equally as wet fabric round her shoulders and walked away still quietly humming the tune. Seemingly uncaring of the pouring rain, her face turning up to it at intervals as she went to the stables.

Arthur looked at the others "No animal there…."

Galahad blushed, but remained defiant "not many at the fort would agree with you."

"They did not witness that."

"Singing does not make her less the animal Arthur" Galahad pressed "she would still kill without compunction; just like Tristan."

"That 'animal' has saved your life more than once _boy_." Dagonet grumbled to the youngest knight as Tristan merely turned and walked off.

"I meant no offence."

"Well it was taken all the same. You do not like being called 'pup' or 'boy' do you Gal?" Gawain put in, his friend and brother sulkily shook his head.

"Well imagine how much worse it is being called 'animal' all the time; especially by those you consider friends and brothers."

Galahad's sulk deepened "I only say what others do."

"If 'others' jumped off a cliff would you follow then?"

Galahad rolled his eyes and stalked off; Gawain turned to Arthur "I do not like it…calling Tris that."

"Neither do I; but I do not see our silent friend changing any time soon, and so it will continue."

Just then a jet black horse came out of the stables at a trot with Kit on its back; she urged the animal past them, merely glaring in their direction.

"She _really_ do not like us much do she?" Bors queried sadly.

"I do not think it has aught to do with 'like' Bors, more trust – she does not _trust_ us. Sadly, in a way, that is worse." Arthur sighed as they watched her disappear through the gates.

Only Gawain and Dag noticed Tristan standing on the battlements watching her leave.

"Like to like." The blond knight muttered to the larger one; both nodded before they turned away. In truth there were as wary of the scout as they were the wench……what did that say about _them, they _who were _supposed _to know him best?


	2. Defiance

**_Disclaimer: As Chapter One; so please, for the love of _God, _do not make me keep writing it out people!_**

_**WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE AND SOME SEXUAL REFERENCES (though not too graphic) SO READ AT YOUR OWN PERIL. **_

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**OUTCASTS**_

**_Chapter Two – Defiance._**

Kit rode back in the next evening with a dead deer slung across her horse; back at the stables she made short work of cleaning, skinning, gutting and dividing the meat from the carcass. A few hours later a happy Jols found a parcel of meat sitting by his door, he knew it was her 'payment' for letting her stay in the stables; he made stew with some and set about drying the rest.

Van heard a long whistle from outside; Gilly ran out and shouted gleefully to his mother "Ma! Ma! Kit has brought some meat!"

There was no one there, as there usually were not, but Van knew that Kit had been the one to leave the large amount of meat for them. Bors staggered out of the sleeping area "What is all the noise?" he asked groggily rubbing his face.

His lover waved the raw and bloody meat under his nose "be thankful that we have a friend who is generous."

He heaved slightly at the smell and look of it "damn sickness……I cannot help being ill wench!"

"You could if you only left the ale alone long enough!" Van scoffed and cuffed his head before heading off to make stew for them.

He muttered testily about "bloody women", but smiled at the generosity of his Van's little friend "I will go fetch Dag shall I?"

"Aye, aye….do what you wish, just get out from under my bloody feet – 11 children is enough; I have no need of another large baby to tend."

He left muttering some more….

"Who said I would have you if you asked me!" Van yelled, having heard him. The last word she heard Bors mumble was 'Witch'; at least that was what it sounded like.

She chuckled at his retreating back…..

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Back at the battlements Kit was tucking into her own stew. Sat outside on the wall she was staring intently up at the sky, kicking her feet against the stone almost like a child; she seemed, to any watching her, completely oblivious to the world around her.

One soul was watching her – from the dark stairway Tristan stared, transfixed by her as he had been the first time he had seen her. He could no more explain why it was so, than he could leap over the moon; but he was - there was something about her that he felt drawn to. Maybe it was the way folk spoke of her, like she was some unclean thing – something to fear, to revile…….much as they did him.

He sighed, Galahad's particular vilification of both he and the wench before him was becoming the most tiresome; he could see that he would have cut the pup down to size fairly soon if things were not brought to heel quickly. Better to have him need only healing at Tristan's hands, than burial at hers.

A clunking sound drew his attention and he watched her put down her bowl and wooden spoon. She sighed and studied the sky once more as if looking for something, she seemed to have the weight of the world on her shoulders and he felt for her. Yet for all her isolation she did not seem to mind, seemed to enjoy it almost…..but did she? He gave the same impression; that he preferred to be alone, and for the most part he did…..but _sometimes_ it irked him.

There was another clunk and the bowl appeared before him, full once more; dark blue eyes regarded him silently and she stepped away, walking quickly back to the stables with the pot from which she had twice filled the bowl. He took her place on the wall and ate thoughtfully…….

Down below a silent Arthur watched and smiled…..like to like it certainly was. Still, now it was time to take the tiger by the tail. He turned and made his way to the stable, wondering if he would see daylight again.

She was sat on the hayrick ladder singing to her own horse and Tristan's. Arthur stopped by the door so as not to draw her attention and cause her to cease; he wondered how she could be called animal with a voice like that, a pitiful strength of emotion in every word that made you see her soul. She had been badly wounded in her very heart's centre and so she stepped back, as did his scout, of that he was sure. No one could sing like that otherwise.

It irritated him immensely that she was singled out so for no good reason he could see…..well, apart from the killing; and was not Tristan the same? But then he was treated as badly, but was as accepting. He rubbed his hand over his face as the song ceased; then something amazing happened….she laughed.

Well, chuckled actually – but still, her face formed a smile and not a frown and a noise came out that was neither hiss nor growl…….all because Tristan's horse seemed sad she had stopped and pawed the ground sulkily.

"You'm like the pup, boy." She chuckled "he sulks like a good 'un too. I doubt yourn master would be too happy to see you behavin' like a bratty pup." The horse tossed it's head as if agreeing and neighed, her own mount adding his voice causing her to chuckle once more "and you cannot keep your nose out of others business brute, can you? Nosey boy, eh? Nosey boy and sulky boy; you'm make a good pair." Something caught her attention and she was down and facing the door before Arthur could move.

She went to advance on him and he thought it better to show himself "it is only me, Arthur; come to see how you fare."

Her eyes narrowed almost to slits, but then she seemed to think of something and lowered her blades….slightly; before rubbing one edge on the other. He smothered the smile; she was making it clear she could kill him if she felt like it.

"I mean no harm." he held his hands up.

"First roman I met that does." She muttered to no one in particular, before walking backwards to the horses; putting distance between them. Arthur knew better than to follow – you never cornered a wild….he stopped himself from thinking 'animal'; but she certainly looked almost feral now.

"Well, there is a first time for everything I have found Kit; _is_ that your given name?"

She stared and shrugged "like I said 'afore that is what folk here call me, you may as well follow – or you would you prefer 'animal' like yon pup of yourn?"

Arthur sighed "Galahad means no harm; he does not always think before speaking."

She nodded "still wet behind the ears, and the arse I reckon." She shook her head ruefully "dumb pup."

He saw a bad cut on her arm "How come you by that wound?"

She glanced down "Woad…."

"Was there a problem?"

"_Was_…not no more." She smiled the way that Tristan did; cold and happy at the same time – Arthur forced himself not to shudder.

"Do you often fight the Woads?" He edged a little further into the stables; she tensed "It is a little cold out there, do you mind?"

She made more distance between them, glanced all around to make sure no one was creeping up on her and then shrugged at him, so he stepped further in as she finally replied "I fight whoever might kill me."

"Logical. So you fight Romans too?"

She rolled her eyes and repeated it slower "I…fight…whoever...might…kill...me."

"Sorry, of course. But you like Romans less."

"Raped me did they not? Not going to endear them is it?" Dark blue eyes held his green ones.

He nodded "Nay, I am sure you are right." He cast about for more to say as small talk, came up empty and decided to get to the point – particularly as she was looking bored and was now making practice swings with her blades. "You should come with us….here." he pointed to their barrack rooms "we should stick together."

"_We_?" she raised an eyebrow "You'm Roman, roman – you ain't one of us."

"I am half Briton and do not believe in all the Romans do. I am Christian, I am a follower of Pelagius, I believe that all men are equal and my best friends are Sarmatian. It does not endear me to the Romans garrisoned here."

"Christian? You believe in the 'one true God' then?"

He nodded "What do you believe in?"

"These." She held up her blades.

He sighed "My faith tells me 'He who lives by the sword, dies by the sword.'"

"Mayhap." She nodded her agreement, dark eyes regarding him passively "but there will be plenty dying by mine. A warrior's death is all we can expect if we fight."

"I fight for peace and the freedom of my knights; naught more."

"Their freedom is one thing roman….but there is no such thing as peace. There will always be a battlefield and someone to fight on it." There was a pause "even _your_ God knows that."

"What do you mean?" Arthur was perplexed.

"Did he not visit plagues on the Egypt people, killing many of them – even children? Did not David kill Goliath?" she nodded as if answering herself "always a battle, always a fight."

"But they fought for…."

"Aye, but they _fought_…."

He heard a noise outside the doors and turned to see Tristan coming in; when he turned back she was gone. "She knows the Holy Book" he said incredulously.

The scout shrugged "she makes good stew too."

When Tristan went to his room a little later, a red apple sat outside his door….when she returned to the hayloft, a green one sat on her bedding pack. Both smirked as they ate them.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Two weeks later a limping horse brought a damaged bundle of rags into the fort; Jols was away with the knights and had, extremely gingerly, asked Kit to keep an eye on the stables in his absence as the soldiers were terrors for stealing his supplies.

She had done so and the body count had only been three. The soldiers quickly decided that a bit of pilfering was not worth dying for, especially as no one knew what happened to the bodies.

So she was there when a soldier edged up to the door and called out before running off. She approached the beast confidently and calmed it quickly; taking it inside she was surprised when the bundle moved and began to squawk.

She picked it up and shook it…….a child fell out onto the ground. The shock making it cry all the harder; she took a good look at it, ignoring the squirming and wailing and judged it to be fairly uninjured – although it did have a wound on its arm. It also proved to be a girl child of not more than two summers old. She dealt with the injured horse, then the child's wound before tucking the squirming infant under her arm like a bag of washing, but now bundled back up in her rags, and made her way to the tavern.

She scattered people as she went, all aghast at the child's wriggling and hiccupping tears but none brave enough to approach her "Van? Van!" she called when she reached the ale house.

The small woman bustled out and quelled the laughter as she saw Kit vainly trying to hang on to a squirming toddler. "where did you find it?"

"It is a she…..came in on the back of a horse. Horse was injured, arrows…..not Woad though." She seemed to be off thinking who might be responsible, apparently unconcerned for the infant.

Van rolled her eyes "Aye, but what of the child?"

Kit shrugged "right enough – a cut on her arm is all; I dealt with it. No one with her though, reckon they are dead. You have her….you have got many, one more will not hurt."

Van stepped back, now laughing openly and holding up her hands "nay lass, I cannot deal with another – I have still got two of my own in napkins. Nay, you deal with her."

"I do not want her." Kit dumped the child on the ground "it matters naught to me what happens to her; I thought you would deal with her; but if not I am sure she will fend for herself well enough, I did." She turned on her heel to go.

The little girl stopped crying immediately, wiping her snotty nose on her arm she got awkwardly to her feet and toddled after Kit. The woman stopped and turned, frowning "Nay, I want thee not. Go, shoo!" she flapped her hand at the babe.

The child stood regarding the woman solemnly, but as Kit flapped her hands at her the bottom lip stuck out and big fat tears welled in the large light blue eyes. Kit huffed, turned and stalked away, the child followed; as did Van, who could not miss this.

About 200 hundred feet further on a roman soldier stepped in front of the scrap "What do we have here?" he picked her up by the scruff of her raggedy gown and cloak "a runt if ever I saw one; we drown runts here." He grinned maliciously and stalked over to a water butt, holding the squirming child over it; a shrill cry from her rent the air "MAMA!"

Van caught her as the man involuntarily released her and his head rolled across the ground….stopping at the feet of Arthur. He sighed and looked at the two women.

Kit shrugged "he would drown the child….what would you have me do?"

"Reason with him?"

"Why bother? This was quicker."

"You cannot reason with an animal." Galahad muttered.

Kit was in front of him before any could move "Call me what you will pup, but I was not the one about to drown an infant." She looked round at those gathered and snorted her derision before walking away.

"What about the girl?" Arthur called.

"I care not – keep her, _eat_ her" her glinted mischievously as she turned to the commander "she is not mine."

The child wriggled out of Van's arms and trotted after Kit "it seems she has other ideas!" Arthur called "Anyway, no one here could protect her as well as you. What if another tries to kill her?"

Kit stopped dead and turned; none were sure what she would do "Then I will deal with her, for this shambles cannot continue. But it will not be by drowning; a sword is quicker." She stared at the crowd "I will not make you watch either." She hoisted the child under her arm like dirty washing and marched to the stables; not even pausing when the child called her mama once more.

"She would not….she would_ not_….." Galahad stammered "not even _she_ would do that! She saved her after all….." he stared at Van "she would not….would she?"

Before the woman could answer, a scream rent the air and a few moments later Kit came out wiping blood from her hand "it is done, she did not even fight much" before returning to the stables.

The knights had to hold back a struggling Bors and Galahad. Gawain turned to Tristan and Dagonet "I smell a rat."

The scout shrugged "the child would not survive alone, she did the kindest thing; it was quicker than drowning."

Dagonet looked sick "I cannot believe she would do it though."

Tristan turned "what choice did any give her? None wanted the brat, so what was she to do? We _animals _choose the survival of the fittest." he stalked off.

Galahad had to be restrained from rounding on him by Gawain. Arthur shook his head at the blond knight "I cannot believe she did it."

"I do not think she did."

At that moment Kit came out carrying a bloody bundle, tied it to the back of her horse and stared defiantly at the others "I go to burn her and spread her ashes to the east wind; as none wanted her she should go to her ancestors and rest in peace now." She came back out with her saddlebags, strapped them to her horse and rode out.

Van shook her head – she could not really believe that Kit had done this terrible thing; but she would not put it past her entirely either, after all she would not put it past Tristan and they were much alike were they not?

She looked round the horrified and angry faces of the knights with a few exceptions, namely Tristan and Lancelot (both of whom felt Kit had been pushed into it) and realised she would be doing much smoothing of outraged morals before the other's return – assuming she came back at all.

Dag asked the question she knew the others were bound to ask also over the next few days "Do you think she really did it? Gawain still thinks not."

Van reached deep down inside herself and answered as honestly as she could……..

"I do not know….truly, I do not."


	3. Admiration

**_Disclaimer: As Chapter One; so please, for the love of _God, _do not make me keep writing it out people!_**

_**WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE AND SOME SEXUAL REFERENCES (though not too graphic) SO READ AT YOUR OWN PERIL. **_

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**OUTCASTS**_

**_Chapter Three – Admiration_**

Arthur strode to the stables with the other knights and Van hot on his heels "JOLS! Did she?" he could not finish as he saw the ashen squire come out to meet him.

"Honestly, I do not know; but I heard the little maid scream, that I did. There is also blood up there" he pointed to the hayloft where Kit had been sleeping "but she butchered a deer up there only a few days back and it could be the residue from that." He shook his head "I do not believe….I mean she would not have….would she?"

"Personally she has my total admiration." Lancelot spoke up, his tone reflecting his words.

"You _admire_ her for murdering an infant!" Galahad looked ready to either kill or throw up.

"Whether she did it or not shows she has balls, you cannot take that from the wench." The dark knight nodded.

"She is a woman; she does not _have_ balls as you so eloquently put it!" The young knight all but spat back.

"Listen, if she killed the child rather than let it's sad existence stretch before it like ours; or better yet played a formidable trick on _all_ at this fort to make them _think_ she did……the woman has as much balls as any one of us here present."

Arthur turned "Do you think she did it?"

"Does it matter?" Lancelot quirked an eyebrow "she was right, no one wanted it."

"She did not give anyone a bloody _chance_ to want it!" yelled Galahad "She just slit its throat!"

"How do you know that is what she did? Did you see?" Gawain put in.

Galahad opened his mouth - and closed it again when he realised he hadn't.

Lancelot snorted in derision "Everyone here had plenty of chances to stop her, none did; no one can now bleat that they wanted yet another little beggar running around stealing scraps and then turning up dead down an alley one day. If she did do it, good luck to her – she had have made it quick, better than a lot of the orphans get here. I also doubt she would have slit her throat – not quick enough. A swift stab to the heart would have been almost instantaneous."

"You speak as though she only slaughtered a _pig_!" Galahad raged.

"She did the infant a service Galahad – you have seen what those children are subjected to, and apparently 'it' was a girl." He looked around suggestively before squaring up to the younger knight "what do you think would happen to her? Would you rather _that_ life than a swift death? I swear boy, your soft soul will be the death of you one of these days; or one of us protecting you."

Arthur sighed and stepped between the two knights. "There will be ramifications; none here will let her just get away with this – we need to know if it _was_ a ruse or a reality."

Just then Jols cried out from the battlements, where all began to run "LOOK! Over the hilltop!" they all arrived to see a thin plume of smoke rising.

"Oh dear Goddess – she bloody _burnt_ her!" Galahad gasped.

"She _said_ she would!" Lancelot rolled his eyes "it is our _way_ – our _custom_. I want the same!" he rounded angrily on them "do not bury _me_ in our sad little graveyard; _burn_ me, and spread my ashes to the east wind!"

"But she was a _child_!"

"A child no one wanted. I did not see you run to rescue the scrap Galahad." Tristan growled as he passed on his way to the stables "that might bring trouble Arthur – I will scout."

Arthur nodded and followed him to the stables "if you happen across her – please try to ascertain what happened." He sighed and looked at the floor "but to me it looks as if she did do it."

"If she did, we are as much at fault as she. No one went to help the child did they? It would seem we are all animals this day." and with that he was gone.

Arthur sighed "you are right my friend, you are right. But I doubt anyone else would see it that way."

0-0-0-0-0-0

By the time Tristan reached the clearing where she should have been, it proved to be a false trail. He rubbed his face, why would she do that?

He travelled round for a few hours before finding the right trail which led to where she had burnt something and then following it to the river; her horse was there, but not her. He cast around for a few moments and then decided to go back into the trees……unaware that she was watching him from above.

During the course of the night she had melted into the darkness, when he crept back in the light of dawn she was once more gone. But it did look, he noted, as if only one body had slept there that night.

Following her trail once more he realised she was heading back to the wall – as it looked as if she had indeed killed the child, she was going back to almost certain death; none would let this go. Despite the fact that none had tried to stop her, to help the child; not one had stepped forward and offered to take the girl, to give aid in any way, all they would see is someone to vent their guilt on; the one who delivered the blow that freed the child from her miserable existence. He sighed, if only someone had had the courage to do that to him…..before he became…..

He shook his head; he was at peace with his lot in life. Like Kit, he did not really care for anyone and no one cared for him; he had his brother knights, but even they were a little wary of him, a little fearful.

Nay, he would die in battle and that was that – he would die, in a bloody fight to the death. Each time he rode out he cared not if he rode back…..something told him she felt the same.

He was riding quickly, wondering if he should risk catching her up and telling her to stay away from the fort, when a movement in a tree caught his eye. '_Damn! Woads!'_

Just as suddenly an arrow flew past and dropped the blue man from the branch.

"RUN!" A female voice yelled.

He kicked his horse and they flew through the trees, but they ended up having to fight, and in the melee he lost her again.

There had been no sign of the child though, and so he decided she _had_ done it – the infant was dead and burnt; her ashes spread to the east wind as Lancelot said, it was their custom.

0-0-0-0-0

It took Tristan all that day to catch her up, she settled on the edge of a clearing – using the grassy area to set up a fire and was practicing her swings, blocks and turns. He stayed transfixed for some time – but eventually wondered if he would not be doing her the same favour if he did to her what she had done the child. If she went back, they would crucify her for sure.

At that moment another movement caught his eye and he saw her make a face before plopping down in front of the object; he felt all the blood leave his head as she spoke "so little demon what shall I do with you? Shall we have another go at names, eh? I am…." She hesitated "Kit, we will stick with Kit for now. You are?" she pointed at herself then at the child.

"Mama!" a chuckle accompanied the little voice as if playing some great joke on the woman before her.

'_THE CHILD_!' His mind reeled '_she did not kill her!'_ He did not know whether to be happy or disappointed; happy that the child lived, and so she would too. Or disappointed that she did not have the courage to end the scrap's suffering as he had hoped she had……why should another be consigned to their miserable existence? He continued to watch the exchange.

"Again – me, Kit." Kit pointed to herself "You?"

"Mama!" the little girl chuckled again delightedly.

"Nay, _Kit_. You?"

"Mama!"

"Nay, you are too young to be mama, and I am too old to be you." she sighed and thought for a moment "as we do not know your name or are ever likely to it seems -I will call you Maya which means princess in my language" she reached over and ruffled the child's hair "it was also my little sister's name. She was good and kind, and a princess in every way. Or I could call you Tabiti? That is the name of one of the Goddesses of my people – it was also the name of my daughter…." Her voice tailed away briefly "So much loss and death surrounds me…still, you wish to be here so you have none to blame but yourself."

She reached over and patted her little arm "So, Maya I think it will be…did I hurt you muchly when I pinched you? My, but did you scream." She smirked as she pulled the child down "sleep now, you must be good because you have cost me dear today for our little game – a goodly piece of my venison I burnt for you today to make them fools think I was burning your little corpse." She smiled darkly "I wager they are there now all trying to work out how I did it…..and if they sent the scout to check I needed to make sure it looked as if a meaty body was burnt." She squidged the little girl's arm causing her to giggle "and meaty you are – your kinfolk fed you well it seems."

Tristan realised she was right, he also wondered if he should give himself up – the decision was made for him an instant later……he found a blade near his eye "Seen enough?"

"Why did you let them think you had killed her?"

She stepped back, but did not let her blade down as he stepped into the clearing "why should I not? It annoyed me that because I found her she was automatically mine…..that no one stepped in to help her when that Romanic pig was going to drown her."

Tristan nodded "I think they would like to hunt you like one."

"A roman?"

"Nay, a pig."

"Let them try……."

He nodded and stepped round her to the child "She is blond like you, but her eyes are not so blue."

"Are they blue, my eyes? I never noticed." She shrugged as he nodded.

"I will leave you then." He went to move off and heard a snort of derision "what?"

"You are as bad as the rest – terrified of an infant."

His eyes narrowed "I fear _naught._"

"Not even death? Your comrades do, I see it in their eyes."

"What in mine?"

She stepped to him and stared deeply into his eyes, hers widened suddenly and she moved quickly back "I do not see fear." She agreed.

He realised he had held his breath as she had raised on tip toes to see his eyes, her lips had hovered so close to his he could have sworn he felt the heat from her skin.

"You see something else?"

"Nay." She would not look at him.

"You lie."

She sighed "I see in you, what is in me; naught else."

He stood motionless for a moment, the weight of her words hitting home - when she looked round he was gone.

She awoke with a start in the middle of the night, her hand immediately drawing her dagger…….to find an apple by her; she smiled as she sat up slightly and began to eat it.

0-0-0-0-0-0

At the same time back at the fort Dagonet suddenly sat bolt upright in bed "she did not kill the bairn! She did_ not _kill the bairn!" He got quickly out of bed and donned breeches and shirt, before knocking up Gawain – the only other to truly believe she had not committed such a grievous act.

"Gawain! Gawain! Are you awake?" he rapped on the young knight's door.

A bleary eyed blond opened it, pushing his hair out of his face "it is the middle of the bloody night Dag, why would I be sleeping?"

"She did not kill the bairn!"

Gawain was immediately awake "How do you know?" he pulled the large knight inside, but before he could close the door Lancelot and Bors were pushing their way in.

"What made you guess?" the dark knight asked.

"How did you know he was here?" Gawain nodded at Dag.

"Are you mad?" Lancelot queried incredulously "he was making enough noise to wake the dead and I bumped into this one" he motioned to an upset and hollow eyed Bors "wandering around muttering about 'the poor wee little maid' an hour ago. He has been in my room since then." He rolled his eyes.

Gawain smirked as Dag pulled a face "Did I mention she did _not_ kill the bairn?"

"Aye, I think we got that Dag." Lancelot sighed "but what makes you think so? Either way I admire her – her determination to make a point, or her determination not to let the child suffer…"

"She did not?" Bors' red rimmed eyes swung to his large friend and brother "you think the little maid yet lives? Oh I hope to the Goddess she do…..the poor wee little maid."

Lancelot rolled his eyes at the other two before narrowing them at Bors "have you been _weeping_? Ye GODS! You _have!_"

Bors shoved him "Nay, I have _not_! It is lack of sleep and nothing more…..mayhap a little too much ale also; but I do not weep for a _babe_!"

The other three looked unconvinced and Dag, who knew his soft spot for children well, stifled a smile "so do you wish to know how I guessed?" he took pity on his friend and brother by diverting the attention of their comrades back to himself.

"Aye, tell us then as you felt it could not wait until the morrow." Gawain grinned as a knock sounded on the door and Arthur walked in.

"I was out walking and saw your candle lit Gawain….is all well?"

"By the Goddess you miss naught Arthur." Smirked Lancelot.

Their commander dipped his head and retorted dryly "A good leader _never _misses anything Lancelot – possibly explains why I lead and you follow."

"Ah, as you did not miss that the woman apparently did _not_ slay the child?" he shook his head at the look of relief on Arthur's face "does it matter so much that she did not? How many sons and daughters have we slaughtered in the name of Rome?"

"That is different Lancelot as well you know, we kill those that try to kill us or threaten the order we have here – they are old enough to fight back; I doubt even you could argue that child was old enough to hold a sword."

Dag grumbled his irritation and took Gawain to one side "I will show you how I know." They left to go to the stables and the others followed.

When they got there they went to the hayloft and Dag moved some hay aside and pointed to a number of items stowed there "she has large saddlebags, so why leave all this?"

"Why?" Bors still could not see; but the others did.

"She put the child in the bag?" Gawain mused.

"Aye, she must have…..cannot see any other way to get the maid outside without being seen."

"But the scream?" Arthur reminded them.

"Could have been her…."

"Nay, I have daughters – that were a child's yell." Bors shook his head.

"Then mayhap she smacked her or some such….either way the child _is_ living."

"Ah but what of the bloody bundle?" Lancelot asked.

"Venison." Dag smiled "Jols said she had come back with a dead deer only a few days before; probably wrapped it up and brought it out….."

"There was fresh blood on her hand." Lancelot again made a good point.

"It were not the maid's of that I am certain – she may have used blood from the deer's meat, or even herself; I suppose it _is_ possible she even nicked the child. But the little one lives."

"Are you sure you just cannot accept that she is as cold blooded a killer like Tristan?" the dark knight looked steadily at Dagonet "you think so much of folk Dag; you cannot accept another might be as brutal as we."

"Nay, nay Lancelot – even Tristan would not do this thing, and I am certain now neither would she."

"I am not sure our scout would not do such a thing if he thought it a mercy. I had to agree with what he said – the child's existence would have been miserable, death would be a release for her….however unpalatable to us."

"He would not; his scouting was merely a way for him to check and ensure what we have also now realised – the child lives." Dag was adamant.

"I have to agree with Lancelot Dag – look at Bedivere; when it was obvious we could not bring him back without great suffering, Tristan finished him when we all balked at the task – even I." Arthur pointed out.

"That was different, Bedivere was a man – full grown and a warrior; Tristan only did what we would wish in those circumstances. Also why kill the roman if she did not wish to save the child?"

"She hates Romans that I know to be fact." Arthur nodded.

"Aye and drowning is a brutal way to kill – especially a child. She is no brute; cold blooded killer aye, but no brute." Lancelot added.

"Well, this is his evidence to the child's survival – you have your suspicions as to her death. We will only know the truth if and when Kit returns and agrees to divulge it." Gawain nodded and yawned "for me my bed is calling, so I will away to answer it." He made his way back to the barracks.

As they left, Bors slapping Dag on the back and entreating him "I hope you are right mate, Goddess I hope you are right".

Arthur turned to Lancelot "What say you Lancelot? Do think the child lives or has perished?"

He was silent for a moment then smiled "lives…..Dag is a good judge of character Arthur. If he says she would not kill the maid, she would not."

"Why then play such a sick jest?"

"Mayhap because she felt it wrong for folk to expect her to take the bairn, for them to cast the brat off so easily." Tristan's voice broke in.

Both men turned to the scout "What say you on this?" Arthur asked "You and she are much alike Tristan. So do you think she could have harmed the girl?"

Tristan stared at them levelly "if are you asking if _I_ could do it – the answer is aye if the need arose. If you are really asking if _she_ had done it – the answer is possibly. Like me I think she would if the need was there; we would not see any living thing suffer." He strode away.

"Was that an answer?" Lancelot smirked to his commander.

"As much as we will get from him I think."

"He knows….whatever the truth of it, he knows."

"Aye, well, either way he is not telling us it seems. As Dagonet says, we must wait and see if she returns and then find out from her."

They walked back to their respective rooms; Gawain stood waiting for Tristan, having passed him on the way to their quarters.

"She did not, did she?" Tristan merely cast him a long glance, but Gawain knew the scout enough to know the look "I did not think so." He smiled "Dag turned into quite the tracker to work it out though – you would be proud." Tristan only flashed a smile and disappeared into his room.

Gawain shook his head and shut his own door.


	4. Return

**_Disclaimer: As Chapter One; so please, for the love of _God, _do not make me keep writing it out people!_**

_**Sahil Companion/friend; muslim name.**_

_**WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE AND SOME SEXUAL REFERENCES (though not too graphic) SO READ AT YOUR OWN PERIL. **_

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**OUTCASTS**_

**_Chapter Four – Return_**

The next day, around mid morning Kit rode back into the fort. Some dodged out of her way, blind terror on their faces, others spat in the dirt in front of her horse "Animal!" "Murderer!" were names shouted at her; she calmly ignored them all.

Finally a roman centurion stepped out in front of her horse and grabbed the reins; Four saw and ran to fetch the knights – whatever happened, this would _not_ end well. As it was it did not…..for Galahad also, who had not been privy to the previous night's discussions and discoveries.

"Leave her Centaur! _I _will deal with the murdering _bitch_!" he spat stepping into the sunshine. Holding his head proudly as some muttered "aye let the great knight kill her!" Pulling his sword he flexed his arm a little, swinging the blade to and fro to let her see he was no _pup_ here.

Kit merely quirked an eyebrow at him before slipping from her horse, pulling her blades as she hit the dirt and immediately taking a defensive stance. Galahad looked as taken aback as the now growing crowd of onlookers, he had expected her to be a little more wary; and was wondering if Tristan had been standing before him would he have been this foolish?

Still he had committed himself and would not back down now "You will kill me too, will you!" he blustered.

"I did not stop _you_, you halted _me_…..._pup_." was the calm and passive reply, though the emphasis on the last word was not lost on him.

Galahad bristled at the obvious insult – how dare this murdering harpy call him that name! To dismiss and insult him so and when he did not deserve it! He lunged at her, she easily knocked his sword out of the way; he lunged again as a couple of roman soldiers decided to join in the fun themselves….

0-0-0-0-0

Arthur, Tristan and Dag were the first to arrive with Gawain, Bors, Van and Lancelot bringing up the rear. "Dumb pup" Tristan groaned; his worst fear being realised as he saw her square up to all six men, seven if you included Galahad. If she were anything at all like him this would be too easy……..as it happened, it appeared she was _much_ too like him.

One soldier dove forward; Kit easily blocked his blade with one of hers and stuck the other in his belly. Her first blade followed it's slightly smaller twin; and with a twist and a flick the man was holding part of his intestines in his hands, as he fell dying to the ground. She moved back and brought her blades up and behind her stabbing the man about to attack her from behind in the sides. She stepped forward and pulled her swords free causing him to lurch and fall to his knees; spinning to face him, she neatly decapitated him with a scissor action that left Lancelot speechless with admiration.

Next she thrust out to her right and left stabbing two soldiers, one in the stomach and one in the chest; once more pulling her blades free, they fell face first onto the ground where she decapitated them also.

Another two ran at her, she stabbed one with her right sword and used her left to cut his throat; the left was then stabbed into the man on her right with the right blade cutting his throat. Both men fell quickly, another came at her as she spun to face him neatly bringing her swords in a downwards crossing action that opened him from shoulder to hip in a cross and allowing his insides to spill onto the ground.

She turned once more to face an open mouthed Galahad - he gathered himself quickly and ran at her………………….as Gawain sprang forward "_NAY_!"

She glanced at the blond knight and saw the sadness on the others faces. She stabbed the attacking knight in both arms, and then a leg……………but spared his life. As he fell howling in pain to the ground she stalked up to him, her cheeks red and her eyes bright "thank your brothers you still breath…if not for them, you would be as dead as the rest of these pigs." She spoke calmly and spat on the ground before one of the dead, and then returned to the last man who now lay dying "Are you a Christian?"

"Aye." He groaned.

"Then pray to your God, for you will see him soon enough." She cut off his head and that of the other gutted man; glancing at the open-mouthed crowd she muttered "I do not torture."

Someone from the back cried out "What of the child you murdering bitch!" and stones began to cascade onto her; she held her ground, hardly flinching…….just as Maya popped out of the saddlebag "MAMA! Hungry!" As fast as the onslaught started, it stopped; the hail of stones suddenly ceasing - there were incredulous murmurings from the crowd, some muttering about witchcraft; but none could deny the child appeared the same and unharmed.

Kit for her part had a nasty cut over one eye, a few wounds on her arms from her fight with the soldiers and Galahad; and there was much blood. However, as she sheathed one sword and went to lift the child Arthur noticed a slightly older cut on the palm of her hand, and knew he had the answer to his question of whose blood he had seen the day she had left.

Tristan appeared at her side "you are injured."

Stormy blue eyes turned to him "it is naught – leave me be; you do not wish to be tarred with the same brush I am scout. Go, tend your fallen pup."

He glanced at Galahad and when he looked back she was gone, taking the child with her. Tristan ground his teeth as stalked over to the young man before him "you ever do that again _boy_ and I will kill you myself." He growled as he hauled him to his feet and him and Gawain manhandled him (none to gently in Tristan's case) to the healing room so Dagonet could tend him.

Arthur looked at the bodies – there were six, seven if you counted the injured Galahad. He heard the mutterings of the crowd "did you see her face?" "aye, just like that damn scout!" "No feeling there at all, even while she butchered those men" "Nay it chills the marrow in my bones it do." And he had to agree. She had been _just_ like Tristan; precise, emotionless, calculating….._detached_.

But why; was it a tribal thing? They were both Iazyges apparently, so maybe that was it. But somehow he doubted it; deep down Arthur felt something terrible had happened to her, just as it had to Tristan, and so she had detached herself from feeling. Not entirely, or else she would not have spared the child, nor Galahad - but enough to enable her to kill without compunction for the most part; he shuddered.

It was time once more to take the tiger by the tail; he pushed through the crowd ordering the others to disperse them. He found her at the stables, her horse having made its own way there.

He could not stop the smile as he saw the child stuffed unceremoniously into the hayrick "Mama!" she wriggled and held out her arms.

"Nay Maya" Arthur was surprised to hear her use a name "you must stay there until I have finished dealing with Sahil."

She stood for a moment swaying….Arthur was about to point out that she needed tending far more urgently than her horse, when she slumped to the ground.

As the child, apparently called Maya, called out in alarm for her 'mama' Arthur felt a rush of air as Tristan strode past and hoisted her into his arms, "Bring the child"; he motioned to the little girl who was now grizzling and holding her arms out to Kit.

Arthur toted her into his arms where she hissed at him and struggled "NAY, NAY! MAMA!" and as she slapped him hard across the face, well for a 2 year old, he could not help the rueful thought of _'like to like'._ The child had been with Kit only a few days and was already becoming just like her.

As they left the stables a few noticed who Tristan was carrying, and smiled before spitting in the dirt in front of him; knowing they were safe because he could not kill them _and_ help the woman.

A few even muttered about some animals sticking together, Tristan seemed to either ignore them or genuinely not hear; though Arthur thought the latter was unlikely, not for a man who could a _twig_ snap at 200 paces. For his part he set his face against them, even whilst he raged against the unfairness of it all inside; that was until one woman came over and tried to take Maya.

"I will have the mite, you cannot leave her with that _thing_; the Goddess only knows what she will do to her!" She grimaced at Kit.

Tristan stopped dead and did not turn…..before Arthur himself could do more than tighten his grip on the little girl, who now began to sob openly at all the hostility around her and the woman she called mama looking so bad, a little red headed missile launched herself at the woman.

"You leave her be, you fat _bitch_!" Van yelled "where were you when you thought the child might die? That _thing_ as you call her saved her when that roman pig would drown her! Made her point did she not? AND never killed the little maid." She punched the woman in the face, even as she held onto her hair – the other's nose spreading over her face with a sickening crunch and blood began to pour.

"Look at the maid; does she look scared of Kit? Does she look like she wants to get away? Nay, to her Kit is her ma now– she has lost one already, who the hell are you to take another from her!" She let go and then pushed the woman over; she spun on others who had come over to see the fracas "Anyone else? Eh? Eh? Oh and the very next person I hear call either the scout here _or_ her an 'animal' will have my Bors, me and our Dag to deal with – for I am fair _sick_ of it! Without this man here you would be dead on more'n a few occasions – killed at the hands of Woads or Saxons. Her too, according to him" she nodded at Tristan "fought Woads to help him……and by default us! So stop now or suffer, I _mean_ it!"

She stomped off to the healing rooms; a few continued to grumble, Arthur turned on them this time "ENOUGH! He is not only my scout and knight, he is friend and brother to me……as he is to _all_ the knights – Vanora speaks true, any more dissent and the perpetrators will have me and ALL the knights to deal with!" he pushed past them, deliberately shouldering a few to make a point.

Tristan stifled the smirk at Arthur's words, they were fine and worthy as always – but he was not sure the others would be so free with their praise of him; especially Galahad.

0-0-0-0-0-0

The young knight in question was not dealing with his injuries too well. He was whining and moaning as Dag stitched him up; only to be confronted with Kit being dumped in the bed next to him by Tristan – he went to speak, but wisely changed his mind when he saw the look the scout gave him; merely resolutely staring at the ceiling.

"What happened?" Dag asked.

"She was injured, and did not tend them before her horse." Tristan swiftly explained, then he saw the infected wounds and ground his teeth in irritation "she took some blows when we fought the Woads; it seems she did not tend them either."

Dag sighed as he looked "they are badly infected."

"Maya? Maya?" Kit shifted painfully in the bed.

Galahad's curiosity got the better of him "Whose Maya?"

Maya hauled herself up on the bed and prodded his bad arm hard, smiling gleefully when he flinched "Me Maya…..Mama got owie…..mus' kiss it better." She looked round the assembled men, seeing no one go to help her mother she got down and toddled over, pulling herself onto the bed "Mama…..kiss, kiss…..mama" she kissed Kit's hand.

When the woman did not stir large pale blue eyes turned to the knights, pooling in tears and her bottom lip protruded "no better….mama's owie…_bad_." She lifted her arm to reveal neat stitches and a clean wound "mine better…"

"It seems the damn horse is not the only thing she tended before herself!" Lancelot groused. None wanted to admit they were moved by the little girl's devotion to the emotionless woman.

"Maya? My….sister…..where?" Kit tried to sit up, Dag and Gawain restrained her. It was obvious to all now her high colour and bright eyes was not temper or exertion, but fever; a fever that was spiking quickly.

"To fight that well and be sick….she is some warrior." Jols mumbled from the back.

"Sister?" Arthur looked surprised.

"She never made no mention of a sister." Van said as she came in, a cold wet rag on her scuffed knuckles and a proud Bors behind her.

"She had a sister called Maya and a daughter named Tabiti." Tristan told them "when I found her she was talking to the scrap. She made mention of them – the way she spoke I believe they are no more." He turned and left.

Dag sighed "Ye Gods, this is beyond my comprehension."

"How so?" Arthur asked.

"When we first arrived here Tris would often times make mention of his sister Tabiti, named for one of our Goddesses; and his betrothed Maya." He looked at Arthur "it is a sad coincidence is it not?"

"Do you think his betrothed was her sister?"

"It is possible, but doubtful. Maya is a common name in Sarmatia, I remember we had three in our village alone; but it would be enough of a connection to resurrect painful memories for him, as would Tabiti."

Arthur nodded "a sad coincidence as you say." He glanced at the door "I will see if he is alright." He turned to Galahad "Mayhap you will not judge her so harshly now."

A stony face greeted him "we have all lost people Arthur."

"You harden your heart to the wrong ones Galahad!" His commander snapped as he left "it is a bitter error on yourpart, and one I had not expected from _you_ out of all of us!"

"Who _put_ me here!" was the hurt reply.

"Did you give her a choice brother?" Gawain asked quietly "for I saw her have no option. She could have killed you as she did the others, but she heeded our attachment to you – she is not what you think of her." He sighed "I am deeply disappointed in you this day Gal….." he left with the others; all shaking their heads at him – even Bors, who had to be restrained from hugging the child by Van.

Galahad looked at the sick woman and little girl holding her hand and patting it every so often; he felt the words of the one he considered blood tie, and the reproachful looks of the others, burn into his soul – _was_ he so very bad? _Could_ he have been that wrong? They seemed to accept her now they knew she had not harmed the babe, could _he_?

Could he learn to accept another like Tristan? For in truth he would never understand that one's taste for killing; had always thought it an aberration, an error - and yet here was one just like him. Van left him as she saw his face contort and would let no others in "He is hurt, leave him rest for a bit."

The soft hearted, passionate and hot headed young knight sobbed into his pillow…….one thought echoing around his pain addled brain _'what have I done? Oh Goddess, what have I done?'_

Outside Tristan stalked towards the stables; "Where are you going?" Arthur called.

"To tend the nag she decided was more important than her health."

"Tris!" Dagonet called with a rueful smile "she is much like you still then…..for I recollect you being just as stubborn." Tristan paused before continuing on his way, choosing not to reply. But the others remembered many occasions when he would have to be restrained for wounds to be tended as he was adamant his horse or hawk needed to be settled first.

Dag rolled his eyes as they made their way to the tavern….Gawain for his part loitered with Van outside the room. Both could now hear the sobs of Galahad "Mayhap I was a little too harsh on my brother?" Gawain sighed.

"Nay – he deserved it." Van patted his arm "he is too hot headed and it needs calming. He is not like Tristan or you…..not like any of them really. His temper will be his downfall if he is not careful. But he is not a bad lad; he has got a good heart. It will be alright…you will see."

Gawain nodded as heard the sobs subside to little hiccups "he hates this life…he hates it to his very soul."

Van nodded "Aye I know lad; but look to it, it is not for so much longer…"

He smiled and hugged her "you are a good friend Van, Bors is lucky to have you."

"Tell him that would you? For I think he forgets what a catch I am!" she chuckled as Gawain grinned and wandered after the others.


	5. Sorry

**_Disclaimer: As Chapter One; so please, for the love of _God, _do not make me keep writing it out people!_**

_**WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE AND SOME SEXUAL REFERENCES (though not too graphic) SO READ AT YOUR OWN PERIL. **_

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**OUTCASTS**_

**_Chapter Five – Sorry_**

It was later that night the sobs woke him. Galahad at first thought it was the child, but then realised it was Kit. It was a surprise as he could never imagine her crying. His heart softened as he could never stand by as a woman wept…..

"Kit? Are you alright? Do you ail?" He whispered in the dark as he rose painfully and lit a candle.

She was asleep, but the tears streamed down her face "Tabiti…Tabiti, Mama is so sorry…mama i

s sorry…."

His heart went out to her as he remembered Tristan's words. So he rose awkwardly off the bed and went and sat gingerly next to her. He saw Maya cuddled up to her, fast asleep; he could imagine it had been an exhausting few days for the scrap but she had refused to be taken from the sick woman, and short of locking her in the stockade they could not keep her from her 'Mama'.

Kit was not thrashing around or such, merely sobbing and it tore his heart to hear it. No killer here, just a sad woman weeping over her child……he wondered if that was what had turned her finally? Or mayhap it was the sister who passed also and who the scrap was now named for.

He could not stir her, nor could he quiet her and the child began to stir as the sobs worsened and the shaking of the woman's frame was rousing her.

He painfully made his way out the door, intent of fetching help – possibly Dag – as it seemed he was of little use…………when he almost fell over a pair legs.

The scout grabbed his arm, causing him to grit his teeth as the pain shot through it "What is it? Do you ail?"

"Nay." Galahad whispered in return, matching his voice to his comrade's "What are you doing out here?"

The scout shrugged "I wanted to make sure all was well, but did not wish to come in."

Galahad knew he was lying, to come in would mean he cared and that, to Tris, was weakness; but he let it go, no use antagonising him more than he already had. He remembered why he was out there "Kit is crying fit to bust and it is now disturbing the child. She is so upset Tris, it is sad to see." He tried to push an apologetic tone into his words, knowing the scout would pick them up……hoping to show he knew he had been wrong to be so cruel; not just to the woman, but to him too.

Tristan did not look at him, merely set him on his feet as he rose to his own and turned to the door "I will see to her. Go back to bed Galahad."

The youngest knight sighed "you hate me." He realised with horror he had said the words out loud as Tristan turned slowly to look at him.

"Why should I?"

"Because I am foolish, headstrong….thoughtless…."

"You have always been like that boy and I have not hated you, so why now."

Galahad only pointed at Kit.

"What of her?"

"I was horrible to her; you were angry."

Tristan sighed "Go back to bed Galahad….." he hesitated and then added "there are things here you would not understand."

Instantly the younger man's temper flashed "oh why; because I am a _boy_, a _pup_!"

"Nay because those you love are either here with you or back in Sarmatia. You have not lost as she has….or I." the scout turned his back as if saying the conversation was closed.

Galahad felt tears prick his eyes once more, but would rather have put his eyes out with a red hot poker than let them fall in front of the man before him. The only time he had ever seen Tristan grief stricken was when Percival had died; his last friend, last _brother_ almost – even then he had not cried…..but that was when he had finally took himself off from the rest of them; detached himself in a way.

Galahad knew that Percival, Bedivere and Tristan had come from the same village. Tristan back then had been different; friendly, happy…….._nice_. He sighed, he was right - what did _he_ know of loss. His family were alive, from what he knew; and Gawain, who was like his brother, was still here thank the Goddess.

Tristan on the other hand had lost much; his 'brothers' were dead, his sister also and his betrothed married another and died in childbirth; he had heard Dag telling Arthur earlier outside the door. Dag said everyone he cared for had died…..no wonder he was this way.

He could hear him murmuring to both the woman and the now fractious child; gentle nothings to quiet them, help them rest. "Tristan?"

"Hmmm?"

"I am sorry you lost so much."

There was a pause, then Tristan blew out the candle "Go to sleep pup." But his voice was softer and Galahad knew he was on his way to be forgiven.

He sighed; now he just had to make it up to _her_. That was going to be tricky, Tris knew him – _she_ did not….and he had tried to kill _her_…..

0-0-0-0-0-0

As it was it was another two weeks before she was well enough to for him to approach her; indeed she had close near passed on, but rallied surprisingly after Tristan had leant over and whispered something in her ear – they still did not know what.

For his part Galahad had done his best to help her when she was sick; fetched water for her and helped feed her, as well as he was able and when Tristan would let him - which was only the three days in total and then only because Arthur had been forced to send him out scouting due to some trouble with Woads; he had got into a pretty brutal fight and had been minimally injured himself. Arthur had been angry at that, knowing the reason it had happened.

He had also tried to play with the little girl who was actually a darling little soul and he could see why all who met were immediately under her spell.

But most of all he made sure he was there when she had the nightmares – no screaming or thrashing, just tears and mumbled apologies. If Tristan was at the fort then he would be duty bound to fetch him; no matter what time of the night it seemed, to Galahad at least, that the pitiless knight was always wide awake when he opened his door to him.

This night was no different; Kit had been crying for close on a quarter of one hour now and Galahad could do nothing to calm her, plus it seemed her fever was rising slightly.

Maya sat up rubbing her eyes "Get Tisan. Galdad get Tisan." She mumbled and he had to agree, but this was now the third night in a row he would disturb his sleep and Galahad was beginning to worry how long he had before lack of sleep and killer temper caused Tristan to kill this particular messenger.

He had reluctantly hobbled to Tristan's door, thanking the Goddess he was on the ground floor as his leg still ached a bit "Tristan?" he tapped on the door "Tri….."

"What?" Dark hooded eyes regarded him; Galahad had only just managed to stop himself knocking on the scout's head so quickly did it open.

"She is crying again, and her fever seems higher."

"Come on then." It was only as he pushed past the younger man and went across the compound that the other realised not only must he have been awake, but he was fully clothed as well.

When they reached the room, Maya put her fat little arms to the scout "Tisan, Tisan – mama sicky. I help…" they could see she had managed to get the cold cloth from the bowl and put it on Kit's face, she had splashed most of the contents of the bowl too, but for a 2 year old that was impressive.

Tristan obviously thought so too "Good girl, she would be muchly proud."

Maya beamed, she was a quick study and knew from this particular knight it was as much praise as Bors picking her up and swinging her round until she was sick (he had done that the day before) or Dagonet giving her a huge hug.

Tris felt Kit's forehead "it is rising as you say. Go back to bed I will sit with her – if it does not break by dawn she will cross the veil."

Galahad looked horrified "Should I fetch Dag?"

"Nay it will serve no purpose – she is beyond our help now. Only she can decide if she wishes to cross over or live."

Maya began to cry, there was something about Tris' words that she understood for she asked "Mama go bye-bye? Why mama go bye-bye Tisan?"

He shrugged "I know not Maya – it might be her time and she wishes to be with her sister and daughter" Galahad noted he did not say the names.

"You fink she no wuv me, you fink she wuv dem more?"

It was then that for the first time she allowed someone else to cuddle her….for more than a minute without wishing to get back to Kit. Tristan hauled her onto his lap and sniffed her hair "Did Van bath you? You smell of lavender."

Maya grimaced "Hate baths, bluergghh!" she blew a raspberry and a smile ghosted over his face "Tisan, will she go away forever?"

He sighed and stared at the flame of the candle, Galahad quickly closed his eyes and pretended to sleep when he glanced his way "Nay Maya – those we love merely wait for us in another place."

"But I be lonesome here."

"Aye, well, get used to it –for we all are." The depth of despair and loneliness in his voice at that moment brought a lump to Galahad's throat.

Maya must have felt the same as she cuddled up to him and put her arms round his neck "We be lonesome together?"

He rubbed her cheek "Aye, we be lonesome together."

It was about two hours later Galahad stirred to see him laying a sleeping Maya beside Kit once more whose breathing had become much laboured. He rested her hand on the child's back and his hand on hers, before muttering something in her ear; he looked sick at heart Galahad remembered thinking as he drifted back to sleep. By the next morning though, Kit's fever had broken and when he had woken up Tristan was gone and he wondered if he had dreamt it all.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

So it was when Kit finally started to come back to herself now a full fortnight after their 'disagreement' (as he had taken to calling it), here he was hoping she would not immediately detach his head from his shoulders; and at least now the others had forgiven him he was hopeful if she did, they would at least _try_ and stop her; though in truth he would not bet his last denarii on it. Indeed he was wondering on the sense of his insistence as to staying here to watch her, even though in truth he was well enough to return to his room.

"Maya?" a groggy voice muttered in the dark one night.

"She is by you, sound asleep." He offered his own voice thick with sleep.

She was immediately alert, suspicion in her voice "who is there?"

"Galahad; we spoke a few hours ago."

"Ah" he could hear her tone relax "the pup." He sighed "how fares you boy? I trust you will live from your mortal wounds?"

He smiled then as he realised she was jesting with him; yet another thing in common with Tristan then – no grudge bearer she, just as he was not and a wickedly dry sense of humour, when rarely it showed. "I fare well enough lady, and I will indeed. I am stronger than I look."

"You could not be weaker; well, not and be able to breath unaided."

"_Are_ you jesting?" he needed to be sure however, that it was not just wishful thinking on his part – otherwise he would never be able to sleep again, forever worried she cut his throat one night.

"What do you think?"

"You…_are_?" he asked hopefully.

"Then you would be correct." There was a slight pause "I do _have_ a sense of humour…….somewhere." another pause "I tend to misplace it often though."

He sniggered at that "well, when you find it next time mayhap you could share some with our scout, for I believe his was lost forever a long time since."

"Nay I have not that much, and if I share I will have none for myself; which would rather have, grumpy me or grumpy scout?"

Galahad thought for a moment "that is like asking me to choose between a tiger and a lion….either one could kill me." There was a snort "are you _laughing_?"

"Nay, I do not make that merry." But he could hear the mirth in her voice.

He got awkwardly off the bed and lit the candle, before making his way over to her "May I sit?" she moved her legs in answer "I am sorry." She said nothing merely quirking an eyebrow and levelling those dark blue eyes at him "I am sorry for being so….." he cast about for the right word "thoughtless."

She closed her eyes as if to sleep "go back to bed; there is naught to be sorry for." He hesitated and she opened her eyes again, speaking calmly and with a softness "if I had feelings to hurt, you could apologise; but as I have none, do not bother. Go to bed."

In a way that hurt him more than if she had slapped him. No feelings to hurt – how could a soul not feel? He did as she bid him and then blew out the candle….but laid awake long into the night.

0-0-0-0-0-0

The next morning Arthur and Gawain were the first in, after the usual visit by Tristan; she never saw him, but he would come and sit and eat an apple with her when she ailed – occasionally wafting a slice under her nose. One time, when he caught Galahad looking at him as if he were mad, he shrugged "_I_ would come back for an apple."

Today when she awoke she found one on her pillow – Galahad watched her stifle the smirk. She gestured to her saddlebags and he immediately rose and fetched it for her; she pulled out a bright red apple "Can you see this is given to Tristan? But leave it where he can find it….do not have it handed to him…" He nodded and gave it to Gawain when he came in who smiled at the instructions and strode off on his errand.

Galahad drew Arthur outside and told him of his conversation with Kit "it broke my heart Arthur, truly it did. I would rather she had struck me; nay, even cut me down."

Arthur patted the younger man on the shoulder and smiled at his passionate plea "She is as he is Gal. There is naught to be done, all we can hope is their friendship flourishes and they can bring some peace each to the other." He paused and grinned "their passion for apples is certainly a mutual obsession."

Galahad grinned "Aye I have seen that, the appeal is a little lost on me I have to admit." He sobered "still Arthur, it is a sadness is it not? All these years I knew not of the colossal losses that Tristan had suffered beyond our comrades. Now it seems she has suffered similarly." He looked at the ground "I would fear to end up as they have if I lost all of you. Their coldness chills me; yet she is good to the child, you see that by the way Maya clings to her so."

"Aye and they say a child knows a good soul." He paused "mayhap we should see how she fares with Tristan – I would wager that she likes him too."

Galahad nodded "Dag has agreed to let me stay for a few more days to watch over her and the child. He fears some will let the guilt lead them down dangerous paths that would mean kidnapping the child, and we both worry what Tristan would do – like to like as Gawain says and we think he would aught he had to to bring her back to Kit."

Arthur scowled "if any took Maya from us then they would have _my_ wrath to deal with first." Galahad swallowed; it took much to make Arthur lose his temper, but he had witnessed it in the past and it was brutal. But then Maya _was_ theirs now, for they all had come to dote on the child in the last week…..well, Tristan nodded at her and snuck her apples when he thought no one watching; but Galahad reasoned that for Tristan that probably _was_ akin to doting on her.

"So what do we do about her view on feelings?" This was a worry to the knight Arthur could see.

"There is nothing we can do Galahad. We cannot _force_ her to feel; I do not doubt that she does, otherwise why worry for Maya? Why spare you? Nay I think she feels, but buries those feelings deep. Like Tristan."

Galahad nodded, unconvinced but resigned. Arthur was right, she could not be forced to feel, no more than the scout could – Goddess knew they had tried with him over the years.

Of course no one could know the events that would come into play and force feelings on both she and the knight she resembled so closely, whether they liked it or not.


	6. Bishop

**_Disclaimer: As Chapter One; so please, for the love of _God, _do not make me keep writing it out people!_**

**_The information with regard to the Sarmatian religion is based on various information I have gleaned from sites all over the internet. It was a complex religion and, like their military-oriented nomaidc life_ _that included women at most levels – certainly at combat level as they were not allowed to wed until they had made their first enemy kill and were expected to be able to fight and ride by the age of 6, deserves to mentioned._**

_**WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE AND SOME SEXUAL REFERENCES (though not too graphic) SO READ AT YOUR OWN PERIL. **_

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**OUTCASTS**_

**_Chapter Six – Bishop_**

A few hours later Tristan stalked into the room holding the apple; he glowered at her "did you bring this?"

Kit shook her head, clearly not cowed, even though Gawain and Galahad both flinched at his tone. "Nay, I did not."

"Who?"

"He did." She pointed to Gawain who nodded.

Tristan glared at him "I did Tristan, why?"

"She should not be up yet."

"She was not. Galahad got the apple from her saddlebag when she asked him and gave it to me, and bid me bring it to your room."

Tristan glared once more as she replied "You are welcome" he finally dipped his head at her and stalked out. She looked at the two men "He loves apples almost as much as I."

"You got that from him being rude and only dipping his head?" Galahad marvelled.

"He did not give it back, did he?" she arched an eyebrow at them and Gawain laughed.

"You are much needed here Kit; especially by our grumpy scout."

"Do not get too used to me – I will be moving on soon enough."

"What, why!" Galahad asked "Is it my fault?"

"Nay and I think your guilty conscience could do with a rest now Galahad. People have done far worse to me than thee." She looked at the two knights "it is my way – I do not stay long; no attachments, no one to care for me, or for me to care for."

Her matter of fact tone was all the more heartbreaking as Maya toddled in "MAMA!" she cried "Mama better?"

Kit nodded "Aye, I feel muchly better."

"All better soon?"

"Aye, soon."

Gawain and Galahad exchanged looks as the child sat down to play with a little wooden horse and hawk Tristan had made her (only to keep her out of mischief he had made clear). "What of her?" Galahad whispered.

"What of her? I made my point – there will be many who will take her in now."

Gawain rolled his eyes "Aye for a moment only – and she adores you Kit, no matter what you think of her. You cannot leave her."

Dark blue eyes regarded him "I cannot take her with me, she would perish."

"She will _not_ fare any better here without you – no matter what you think Kit, she adores you and will not settle here if you leave." Gawain reiterated.

Kit closed her eyes and they only just heard her mutter "Death follows me; I wish it on no more innocents."

"Is that what you think?" said a voice from the door, Gawain and Galahad turned to see Tristan stood leaning on the frame and slowly slicing the apple. She merely looked at him "Then you are a fool; we inflict death on our enemies, others merely get caught in the attack – it is a fact of war."

She nodded "but I tire of it, I care not if my enemies and their allies fall in their thousands; but ones like she…….bother me." She nodded at Maya.

"Aye, well at least you have retained your soul if it does. Mine died a long time since…."

"I do not believe that."

"Nay? How come you to that conclusion?"

"Anyone who loves apples as much as thee cannot be without a soul." She told him straight faced even as the other two laughed out loud.

He smirked, but before he could say more Dag appeared at the door "Arthur needs us for a meeting in one hour….we have a mission."

"Why the hell are you grinning?" Galahad groused.

"Arthur says the bishop with our release papers is coming in two weeks, and we are to escort him here so that we can be officially freed of our service!" Dag's face was nearly splitting in half.

The other two clapped each other on the back and then Dag. Tristan just sat on a stool next to Kit's bed with his feet up on the blanket, slowly continuing to eat the apple she had given him.

She stared across at the other three now rushing to find Bors and Lancelot and then back at Tristan "Your joy is as overwhelming as theirs."

He shrugged "we are not free yet."

She nodded "What will you do when you are? Go back to Sarmatia?"

He levelled his gaze at her, brown eyes locking hers from beneath his thick fringe "Why? I have naught there to call mine now, naught to draw me back."

She nodded once more "your village?"

"Why are _you_ still here, could _you_ not return?"

Her eyes glazed for a moment as if remembering some past hurt, and then she almost imperceptibly shook her head "Nay, I too have naught to go back for." She thought for a moment more "and I doubt I would be accepted by another village…too much...too much has happened." She looked then at the sleeping child beside her "though I begin to wonder if I could take her back and settle her there, as they all but refuse to let me leave without her."

He stared hard at her again, his knife stilling "You are leaving?"

"I usually do – but this one is proving a problem" she nodded down at Maya "Gawain and Galahad wish me to be with her; and not just with her, but with her _here_." She stared at the ceiling; in the end so intently that Tristan could not but do the same.

"You are looking at what - exactly?"

"The ceiling - exactly."

"Aye...I see. I do not have much call myself."

"I was taught by……..someone that if you stare at a point above you; a star, the sky, a _ceiling,_ that you can escape the horrors of the world and find what you seek the most."

"Does it work?"

She shook her head "Nay, but I never give up trying." She shrugged "though I wonder why sometimes; after all it is better to face Hades head on than pretend it is not there."

"You think this Hades?"

"Aye, and when my time does finally come, and I can rest; I will cross the veil and reside with those I lost." She spoke almost wistfully.

"You lost many?"

"Aye."

"How?"

"Sickness and Romans; Sickness came first, Romans finished the job." She sighed "I was….different, once. So long ago now I barely remember it. She died, the day her daughter perished…."

"How?"

She closed her eyes and he saw tears on her lashes but they did not fall; and he did not speak, or say he had seen her weep many a night in her nightmares for a child long dead, a sister perished….finally she spoke "I do not, _will not_, tell."

"As you wish."

When she opened her eyes he was gone………….and a green apple sat on her pillow. She picked it up and looked thoughtfully at it; before biting hard into it with relish.

0-0-0-0-0

So she stayed on for the next fortnight. She had been trying to learn to read; words to start with that Arthur had given her; intent as he was on helping her – the knights too would take turns sitting with her, even Tristan and Bors.

Arthur had joked they would be words she would like – sword, bow, archer, warrior….she had smiled when he had said it would be easier to learn to read if you started with words you liked, than words you did not – love, friend, peace. So she had been sitting by the round table pouring over her latest words, when Van came to see her.

She told her she had had a bad dream….there was ice and Dag was killed; protecting the others, but he died. Then Lancelot fell in battle trying to protect some Woad wench she had never seen before; but he hated Woads almost as much as Tris, so it did not make sense.

Finally….and here she faltered, for she knew of the accord between Kit and the scout. Tristan died at the hands of what appeared to be a Saxon….staring at the sky and his hawk. Bors survived and married her; Arthur survived too, as did Gawain and Galahad. But it was not the same without the others, and Arthur married the Woad girl and was proclaimed king of Briton – but she was awful for him, a wrong 'un and it all ended badly…..

Kit sat passively listening – the woman before her was greatly distressed and weeping by the end; much unlike the Van she had befriended. "It was a dream Van….only a dream. You should be like me and eat apples at night, not cheese."

Van tried to smile "You eat apples _all_ the time wench."

"It was a dream…."

"But what if it was not? What if….." she paused "what if it were true? My ma, she had a….thing that happened sometimes. Some called it the gift of sight; it ain't ever happened to me before. But it did her – only twice in her life; once when my father died in battle, the other when I was about to agree to marry another and she told me not to. She said he was wrong for me, oh perfect it seemed to all around – but one who suited me better would come for me. Two years later my Bors was brought in by Arthur and the others…..injured, and our village was the nearest to get aid. I nursed him……and, well, here we are. It was only when I was to leave and come here with him that she told me he was the one she had dreamt of."

"Could you not discuss this with her?"

"She died some 8 summers past." Van stifled fresh tears as she thought of the woman who was so good to her, and taught her what a real mother should be "I do not believe in Arthur's God, but I like the idea of his angels – I like to think of her as one……still there and helping when she can…."

"Loss of a loved one is a hard thing to bear Van…but we cope. The heart dies a little each time, but we cope."

"Is that what happened to you? Each time someone you loved died, a little bit of you went with them."

"Not a little" Kit nodded "a lot." She changed the subject "now, how can I help?"

"I do not know….they are getting their freedom soon….we will be leaving….I think." she sighed and shook her head "Mayhap you are right – it were only a dream." She closed her eyes only to have them snap open again and she clutched tight to Kit's hand "But it felt so _real_. I saw Dag _hear_ the ice crack….hear my Bors cry out "Dagonet! Stay with me! Dagonet! Stay with me!" she began to cry again "he _cried_, oh Kit he cried for Dag!"

Kit squeezed her hand in return "to die in battle saving our friends, _brothers_ – it is a good way to die. An honourable death like that would be most welcome for me."

"I DO NOT _WANT_ THEM TO BLOODY DIE!" Van cried "Please, _please_ help me – them's family….all of them stubborn mule-headed bastards, I know them better than my own blood now."

Calm blue eyes regarded her, face passive but her voice was soft as it always was with those she liked "What can I do?"

"Go with them – when they go out…._anywhere_, go with them. Ask Arthur and if he says nay, _go anyway_."

Kit nodded "Alright – for you feel strongly I can see, and you have been friend to me. Alright, but I cannot promise to save them – but if necessary I give my word in my blood" she pulled a dagger from nowhere and sliced her palm and shook Van's hand - as Arthur went to walk in, but stopped just outside to listen "I give my word in blood to you Vanora of the Britons that I will die to save them."

Van flung her arms round the other woman "Thank you Kit, thank you. I know you will do your best, but come back too eh? We will all need you…."

Kit arched an eyebrow "oh, I do not know – death would be a good escape from this little demon." Maya glanced up from the toys Tristan had given her and were now her constant companions "aye you know your true name, eh?"

"Mama – wuv you." Maya climbed into her lap for a cuddle.

Kit hugged her in return, but never replied. Maya got down and ran outside "Maya find Tisan, find Tisan _now_!" Kit rolled her eyes as Van dried her tears and laughed.

"She is almost as attached to Tris as she is to you."

"Aye, and he is as thrilled as I."

Arthur walked away mulling over the little snippet he heard and the unusual distress that Van was in.

Van left wondering whether she was being merely hysterical, but gladdened that Kit would be there……just in case. She sighed and shook her head it _was_ just a dream….it was….

She spotted Tristan walking along with Maya. She tried not to laugh; he strode along with the little girl trying to keep up. In the end she stopped, adopted a mutinous look and called "TISAN! TISAN, CARRY MAYA!" Without changing pace he doubled back, stooped, picked her up and strode on.

The roman woman whom Van had punched tutted at the child being with _that _one, but Maya merely stuck her tongue out and made a punching motion at her; the woman paled, muttered something about "bad influences" and hurried away – Tristan did not look over at the woman, but he did smile; everyone else got out of their way rapidly as he glared at them, the little girl doing her best to copy him.

"What does Maya do if someone tries to take her?" Lancelot asked the little girl as they drew close.

"Kick and punch and scream for Mama!" she cried gleefully; demonstrating her skills on Tristan, who was still carrying her.

"You must do better than that child, I barely felt it." Dark eyes stared at her and she lifted his fringe to see him better and flicked his nose. He growled at her even as he endeavoured to keep a straight face.

Lancelot unfortunately chose that moment to stick his face closer to her "Nasty Tristan….growling at Maya."

The little girl punched him as hard as she could "NAY! Tisan Maya's fend! Tisan mama's fend!"

Tristan smirked as a stunned Lancelot clutched his cheek "The little _HARPY_!"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Two days later the knights left to bring in the bishop. Kit had left a sobbing Maya with Van, who merely smiled gratefully and clutched the struggling little girl.

Once they met the bishop and were on their way back, Arthur sent Tristan to scout ahead; but gave him a knowing look – they all knew that some of those arrows could only have come from a source farther along than the Woads, and that could only be Kit. Her presence had been fortuitous though; her bolts had saved Lancelot, Arthur and, surprisingly, Galahad from serious injury.

Tristan easily caught her up "Arthur is not best pleased."

She shrugged "He rarely is."

He smirked "Why did you come?"

"A friend asked me to – as it was she was right, you needed the help." She paused at his arched eyebrow barely visible under his thick fringe "well, not you. _They_ needed the help." Sighing she looked at the sky "Will Lancelot _never _learn to watch his back?"

He shook his head "doubt it." He saw her staring at the sky "worked yet?"

She flashed a smile and shook her head "not sure I want it to now."

"This life getting better?"

There was a pause "Not better, but more….bearable." He watched the trees as she stared at the sky; they both looked over to see the other holding out an apple.

"Like to like." They said at the same time and he laughed, she looked surprised.

"What?"

"You laughed."

"I do…….sometimes."

She dipped her head "I am honoured." _He_ pretended to look surprised this time.

"What?"

"You have a sense of humour."

"I do…..sometimes."

It was his turn to dip his head "I am honoured." They both smirked and shared a companionable silence until the others caught up, each munching the other's pro-offered apple.

0-0-0-0-0-0

"I am not happy." Arthur groused to her when they had reached them.

She shrugged "Are you ever?"

"What?"

"Are you ever happy Arthur? A simple question – yay or nay is sufficient an answer."

"Aye, I am happy – often."

She glanced at him before riding forward "Best try not to keep it such a secret then, for I would never have known and I see muchly as a rule."

Lancelot had to pinch his mouth to keep from laughing at Arthur's shocked expression as he rode after her "I am not done lady."

"And I have told you already I am no lady – only Kit."

"Then I am not done…..Kit. I told you to stay behind."

"I am sorry you must be confusing me with someone who cares what you say." She motioned to the other knights "I am not them; oh, they may argue, but eventually they obey regardless. I do not; I am not a sheep Arthur, I am a wolf."

"You think I have no say over you?"

"I do not _think_ it, I know it. No man will rule me ever again – certainly no _Roman_." He flinched "I have hurt your feelings; for that I am sorry – but the Rome you adore is gone Arthur, trust me. " she sighed sadly he thought "but keep your dreams; these days dreams are all we have to keep the darkness out."

It was the first real hint about her past he had got directly from her, and he so wanted to press for more – but dealing with Tristan over the years had taught him not to push his luck. Still he could ask about other things….the present. "Do you hate me so much?"

She flashed a smile "Nay Arthur I hate thee not – if I did, your head would have said farewell to your shoulders long since. In fact you can brag you are the _only _roman I have _ever_ met that I like."

He smiled against his will at the obvious softening in her voice, from anyone else it would be as much as a declaration of undying devotion. "Praise indeed, I feel I have had laurels of gold heaped on me."

"A jest?" she looked amused.

"I do have a sense of humour – sometimes."

"Oh well, yours must hide with mine and Tristan's; for ours are here only sometimes also."

He grinned "you would ride with us again I assume, if it had been necessary?"

"You assume correctly, I will when the time comes – I can see now, why they made you commander of this lot." She waved her hand at the other knights "a mind like a steel trap….well, a mind anyway – a rare thing for any man."

He chuckled, but then sobered "You jest in earnest I see – but I also hear you saying when the time comes. The men will be free as of tomorrow……" his tailed off meaningfully.

She frowned "I know these so-called 'men of God' – a bishop would not come all this way to merely set you all free. Nay, the cleric would be sent alone for so mundane a task; they never go to all this trouble for the freeing of other Sarmatian knights. Nay, if he is here there is a greater reason, mark me. If it be so, I will ride with you unto the veil itself."

"The veil?"

"The veil of shadows – your religion would call it the gates of hell. For us there is a veil of shadows to traverse to get to Heaven."

"You believe in Heaven then?"

"Heaven, hell, in all religions they are much the same – the Moors have Allah and Mohammed, you have your God and Jesus, we have Tabiti our Goddess of fire and the sun and those other gods of nature that are the sky and the earth; we also have one for home and another for war." She smirked "Not that I say quantity is better than quality."

He arched an eyebrow "another jest?"

"Make the most of it; my humour does not often tarry long."

"I will remember that." He dipped his head and rode forward; but something worried him about her words – so certain…..

0-0-0-0-0-0

She met the bishop a short while later; she went to Arthur's rooms to speak with him about her reading and met Germanius instead just as he broke Pelagius' disk.

She stared at him coolly, even as his eyes raked her lecherously "My child – do you come to serve me?" he cooed. His cleric looked round startled, Germanius glared at him "leave us!"

The man hurried out as Kit looked at the disk on the floor "bring back bad memories Bishop?"

"What?" he followed her gaze "oh that – the man was a heretic."

"For wanting all men to be equal?" she thought for a moment "Aye, well I can see where _your_ kind would find that a problem." Before he could reply she glanced round "Where is Arthur?"

"_Arturious_ is not here – _I_ have taken these rooms for the duration of my stay."

"Which will be more than one night." It was a statement.

"How do _you_ know?" he frowned.

"I have eyes and I see the signs of what is to come Bishop, even if others choose to ignore it. A man of your standing would not be here to simply free knights of their slavery; too many end their days in service every day and no bishop visits _them_."

He stroked his beard and grinned "a womanwith a brain, God _is_ full of wonders."

She dipped her head "a man without one – and so He is also still predictable."

Arthur, who had stilled outside on hearting Kit's voice, smiled at the sharp retort.

"I like a woman with _bite_." The bishop leered suggestively.

She merely arched an eyebrow "I thought the Holy Mother Church demanded abstinence and celibacy from her chosen representatives?"

"Quite so, quite so." He nodded and then smiled ingratiatingly "But we are still only men."

"Really?" she feigned surprise "I was led to believe you were the vessels of God's holy will, sent down to show us how to be worthy of His love?"

He began to squirm as she seemed to know entirely too much about the rules of the church; he laughed nervously "You know a lot about the Holy Mother Church?"

"Aye I had a friend who was a member – he taught me much of the bible."

"Ah, so where is this man who showed you the light?"

"Dead. Some did not like his beliefs; he was a follower of Pelagius. Did you know Pelagius?" she glanced pointedly at the broken disk "Oh, of course you did."

He bridled with guilt "What do you infer wench!"

"Naught – sometimes a guilty conscience puts more meaning into words spoken by others, than is actually there."

"You could burn in hell for breaking the rules and speaking so to a man of God!" he gasped.

Kit shrugged and replied coolly "alas I am a _pagan_, Bishop; He is _your _god, they are _your_ rules, _you_ burn in hell."

"You are a _heretic_!"

"Nay, I am a _pagan_ – your religion means naught to me. You are a man only….nothing more." She turned to go, but he came swiftly up behind her and pressed her to the wall.

"I could make your life very unpleasant…" he hissed.

She pushed back and spun, catching him off balance so that he landed on his backside and found himself facing a blade; Arthur hesitated knowing why she was threatening him "Then do so" she nodded calmly, her voice arctic "but I would make it worthwhile as it would be the last thing you did on this earth." She considered him a moment before leaning forward; he flinched at the look in her eye "and if I were thee I would be in no hurry to die. You will have much to explain to your God when you see him."

He would not look at her and blustered "I have done naught wrong."

"Really? Then _your_ definition of good and your God's are very different." She looked more closely at him as he flinched at the dagger "fear not bishop, you will be safe…..for now. To harm thee would bring more trouble on their heads and they will have enough to deal with I think; but do not touch me again or I will not control my temper next time. I am not called animal here for nothing."

As she turned to go he called out "I have guards!"

"Those roman soldiers?" she scoffed "they could not protect you from a small Woad raiding party; they will not be able to protect thee from me. That is why Rome wanted Sarmatian knights in the first place – they needed real _warriors_, not pigs in uniform." She stalked out as Arthur pretended to come in.

She stared at him "Thee should not listen in doorways Arthur." He started and she smirked "I assume you would have come to rescue me if he had attacked me?"

He nodded "But something tells me you would not need my aid."

"Ah another reason you are the leader, the 'something'" she smirked and continued "my father had it too, and he was a _great_ man." She walked away; the pride in her voice tugged at him.

He turned to the door, knowing the other man would not risk letting on what had just transpired – but her comments about Pelagius nagged at him; still, he took a deep breath and went in "Bishop Germanius, as I said before, welcome to Briton!"


	7. Betrayed

**_Disclaimer: As Chapter One; so please, for the love of _God, _do not make me keep writing it out people!_**

**_Pneumonic plague, which is the disease that Kit is describing, is alleged to be the most common disease the Sarmatians suffered from. Research on the internet brought this surprising fact to light and so I decided to incorporate it into the story rather than just some vague 'fever'. Even today it is still fatal to 95 of those infected if left untreated – the only definite way to ensure survival back then would've been to remain healthy; not an easy thing to do if your entire village was succumbing to it._**

_**Additionally the part about the horses is also documented – they did indeed believe their best horses were brave and heroic warriors and ancestors returned to take them into battle and aid them to victory.**_

_**I wrote the poem that is Kit's 'song'.**_

_**WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE AND SOME SEXUAL REFERENCES (though not too graphic) SO READ AT YOUR OWN PERIL. **_

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**OUTCASTS**_

**_Chapter Seven – Betrayed_**

It was only later when she had given up trying to put a sulky Maya to bed (Kit had reluctantly moved into the knights section because of the child who, Arthur said, "needed a proper bed even if _she_ did not") that Kit had gone to the tavern with her to seek Van out and reassure her all had gone well; but had found that she and Bors had gone to "move some furniture" as Galahad had put it with a smile.

She had looked at Tristan with a frown "Why would they want to do that now? I would want to do more than move furniture with my lover after a mission."

Tristan smirked, leant down and whispered in her ear so Maya could not hear "I see….." she chuckled after he had explained "Good analogy I suppose; and at least the bed moves, so it is not a lie either."

Lancelot burst out laughing "I really thought you would be embarrassed."

"Why? It is only natural to want to share your body with someone you love, especially after they risked their life – to show them physically how much you care for them. But more to curl up with them in a bed and know they are as content to be with you, wrapped in each others arms and around your naked bodies, as you are with them."

Lancelot shifted uncomfortably in his seat and Gawain and Galahad nudged each other as they saw Tristan's eyes darken. "You should watch what you say Kit." Lancelot smirked "Your words are very…..arousing."

She walked away shaking her head, Maya leaning over her shoulder arms out to Tristan who shook his head at the little girl with a smile, as she said "Men's brains are not in their skulls, of that I am certain." Because of that, she missed much of the ensuing argument; her suspicions about the bishop's visit were correct it seemed.

0-0-0-0-0-0

She returned later to see if Van had finished "moving the furniture" – she smiled at the term and thought she would have to remember it. As she reached there, the knights were locked in a vicious argument with Arthur – she caught the gist of it, smiling at Tristan's retort of "Yeah, yeah, we are all going to die someday. If it is death by a Saxon hand that frightens you - stay home."

She bristled though when Galahad retorted "Well if you are so eager to die, you can die right here!" she started to pull her swords when he lunged at the scout and Lancelot, spotting her and her blades, stepped between them "enough, enough!"

Finally Dagonet became the voice of reason and they quickly dispersed realising that it was the bishop who was the one at fault, and not Arthur; all agreeing to go, however reluctantly. She had to smile when she heard Bors mutter "Vanora will kill me."

She admired Gawain's quiet acceptance; but thought Galahad was being _incredibly_ childish with the way he emptied the wine out before Arthur, and then smashed the jug on the ground.

Their commander merely stared at Lancelot before leaving; she could see his heart was heavy and trotted to catch him up "Arthur!"

He did not turn as he stopped and answered "Are you _ever _bloody wrong wench!"

"Probably, but those who know are usually too dead to pass it on."

"Why! Why do this to them!" he raged "have they not done enough for Rome; shed enough blood? Have they not lost enough of their brother in arms?" Have I not lost enough _friends_?" the last was anguished and she patted his arm; standing stiffly as he pulled her into an embrace "it killed me - Kit, it killed me to do that to them; to snatch away what they waited so long for!"

She sighed "welcome to my world…..but you will live, you will just be that bit harder Arthur."

"Why! Why now!" he continued to rant as he let her go "Bors is right, they have laid their lives on the line so many times, and now just when freedom is within their grasp – it is _gone_! WHY!"

She dragged him down a nearby alley "_SHH_! Your outburst will get back to Germanius and he will make much of it in Rome. You do not wish that, trust me." She locked eyes with his and shook him slightly "I will tell you why – _you_ arethe only who cares about them, the _only_ one who gives a damn what happens to them.

Rome cares not; those men you care for like they are your own blood are not _Romans_ after all, only _Sarmatians _– little more than slaves in their eyes. Why should they worry what happens to them, what care they if they die in 'service' when they should have been released?" she shook him slightly again "your men, your _brothers,_ are expendable Arthur – _you _are the only one who cares if they return or not."

"Nay, I am not." Green eyes burned into hers "You care also…you do!"

"Nay - I care not for any soul, not even my own."

"Then why say you will ride with us!"

"I gave my word."

"To Vanora…"

"You were there then also?" she shook her head "Do you listen at _every_ door in the fort?"

He flashed a smile amidst his anguish at betraying those he cared about as blood kin "Nay, though it may seem like that." He looked at her "Why would Vanora worry so for us?"

"I cannot say – though she never swore me to secrecy I do not think she wishes it known generally. I gave my word to keep thee safe; and I shall, even if it costs my own life – I gave a blood oath."

He gripped her shoulders "we would not let you perish Kit….we all care for you too much; some of us more than others."

"I have heard the rumours also; but Tristan and I are only passionate in one thing - our love of apples." She tried to jest him out of his melancholy.

"Tristan….aye, Tristan." he dipped his head as if to whisper something, but stalked away instead.

She shook her head and went to leave……………..only to be confronted with the scout; an unreadable expression flitted across his face as he nodded his head towards Arthur "What ails him?"

She shrugged "he feels betrayed by Rome, and in his turn he has betrayed you – he feels you should be set free…."

He shrugged in return "Aye well, as I said that day, we did not have our freedom – so I am the least disappointed I think."

She nodded and flashed a smile "Always see the glass half empty and you will not be disappointed when you find it is really so." There was a pause "he does not object to me going too this time; but I will ride out after as I did before, I doubt the little cleric would appreciate a female fighter coming – probably consider it a bad omen or going against his God's will or some such nonsense. Funny little creature he is. Are thee ready to leave?"

"You think the bishop means to send the runt?" Kit nodded and he sighed "that will not sit well with the others." He gazed at her steadily "But aye I am ready, so are they – we have a few things left to do on the morrow, but not much. You?"

"I always have a pack ready – my sword will need sharpening; Jols nagged me from sharpening it as much as I did, said I would have no blade left the way I was going. My argument is a sharp blade means less effort in beheading the enemy."

They both chuckled and she went to leave "Where are you going?"

"Back to the tavern, I want to speak to Van; make sure she does not kill Bors."

He smirked "I will come with you; if she is in a real temper it might take both of us to save his hide."

They made their way back to the tavern and she went straight to the back – people moving out of their way as they passed; though they seemed oblivious to the openly hostile or frightened stares they were receiving.

She spoke to Van in hushed tones for some time; and Tristan saw the woman finally throw her arms around Kit and hug her tightly, whilst the other patted her awkwardly on the back.

He wondered distractedly whether she would be like that with a lover – stiff and cold, unresponsive. But judging by what she had said to Lancelot earlier he doubted it; and he had seen her be affectionate with Maya when she thought none were looking. If she gave her heart it would be completely……he just doubted it was something she would ever do – no more than he would, it just wasn not worth the pain when you lost them.

"What was that about?" he asked when Kit returned.

"Naught, all is well." She went to walk away when a hand grabbed her.

It was Lancelot with a fractious Maya "Four did not know what to do with her…" he sighed "So I got lumbered – I think I have enough to deal with this night Kit…" He though back over the past hour; his argument with Arthur about the mission and then being accosted by a flustered Four with a whining Maya "she has had another nightmare Lancelot…..can you take her?"

The little girl was not really comforted by the dark knight; when she was distressed like this, from one of her recurring nightmares, it seemed it was only Kit or Tristan who could do aught with her. He had tried though as he thought much of the child "what is the matter scrap? Hmm?"

She buried her head in his shoulder "Bad…. Tisan and you go 'way….Daggy too…." She let out a little whimper that tugged at his heart "make go 'way Lanlot, make bad men go 'way."

He rocked her "it is only a dream Maya….only a bad dream." Though he knew it not to be like the others she had had. "Nothing will happen to us – your mama will not let it." He smiled at her but she continued to whine and whimper. He finally gave in "let us go find your mamma or Tristan, eh? I am sure they will be delighted to stay up all night with you."

She bounced in his arms "want Tisan and Mamma!" So off they went in search of them, and now here they were. She tugged the scout's shoulder as the woman took her in her arms "Tisan, make mamma sing."

He shook his head "I doubt she will want to, not tonight."

"Aye, sing and make bad go 'way….mamma sing nice and bad go."

Bors had come back and weaved his way to her "Aye lass, sing for the little maid and make the bad dreams go!"

Galahad too had returned "Sing Kit – this may be our last night on this earth; please, you have such a wonderful voice – Arthur's angels would be jealous."

She arched an eyebrow "I do not succumb to flattery, Galahad."

"It is not flattery if it is the truth - come, sing for us."

"How do you _know _I sing anyway?"

He blushed "we heard you once….you sing beautifully." He added quickly and she rolled her eyes.

"Does everyone listen at doors here?" the knights merely looked oddly at her; but she heard a rueful chuckle……..Arthur hovered on the edge of the square, but did not approach – she felt for him as not one called him over, not even Jols; so she did, she knew what it was like to be an outcast, and he did not deserve it – not when he was as tied as they.

"Arthur…come – this is not a night for any of us to be alone." He smiled sadly and nodded; but still only came a little closer, sensing the open hostility from Galahad especially. She turned to the child with a sigh "What should I sing Maya?"

"Sing bring home…." The little girl held her arms out to Tristan "Tisan hug Maya; mamma sing bring home and the bad go."

"Bring home?" Tristan asked with a frown as he took the child from her, and she snuggled her head into his neck; still clutching the horse and hawk that went everywhere with her.

Kit shrugged "It is just a song – I sang it to her only twice. But she is obviously keen to hear it again."

A roman leaned over to Bors "_She _sings?"

"Aye and like one of Arthur's angels 'n all."

"_Please!"_ pleaded Galahad.

"He will not shut up until you do – you think _she_ can nag?" Gawain nodded at Maya "you have not heard Galahad yet." he chuckled, but his eyes were sad and she felt for him even if she would not admit it.

She stumbled as Bors took advantage of her unaccustomed indecision and shoved her into the middle of the square "QUIET! QUIET, YOU _DOGS_! Kit will sing…" he flapped his hand at her "_Sing, sing_!"

Van and Dag smiled encouragingly from the doorway as she cleared her throat and began hesitantly, though quickly gained voice as the words made their meaning clear to those around…

"The darkness now surrounds me,

My heart is set adrift –

Why can I not yet find you,

What is this widening rift?

You reside on one side,

I long to bring you home –

To hold you tight within my arms,

Never more to roam."

Her eyes stared at the sky; all became still and tears pooled in many eyes, not least those of the knights who knew her best, as her voice soared high into the night air as she questioned the darkness before her. 

"Is there no way to surmount it?

Am I cursed to eternally roam?

Why is my heart always broken?

Why can we not return home?

You remain so far away,

Yet I can see you still.

I long to feel you hold me,

And one day mayhap I will.

If I could only reach you,

My heart would heal I know –

But there _is_ no way to hold you,

I can only let you go."

Her voice soared once more, clear and full of emotion she rarely showed.

"If I could be close by you,  
if I could cease to roam.  
If I could only hold you,  
I would bring you home.

Is there no way to surmount it?

Am I cursed to eternally roam?

Why is my heart always broken?

Why can we not return home?"

Her voice cried out for an answer and all could hear the tears hitching at the end as she dipped her gaze; by the end of the song there was not a dry eye present. Even those who disliked her felt something akin to pity for whatever evil had befallen her to sing such a song so plaintively.

But for Tristan, seeing how she stared up at the sky, he finally realised what she was trying to see……some sign of those she had lost.

"Who taught you that song? It was beautiful Kit." Gawain asked thickly; as Galahad nodded, tears on his cheeks.

She stared for a very long moment at a point over his shoulder as if deciding whether to tell, and then looked at him "my husband" She flashed a sad smile "in one of his more lucid moments…….the week before he died."

As she went to walk away Dagonet grabbed her hand "but what of your family Kit; what of _you_?"

Kit looked at him briefly and took a deep breath "I am alone" she shrugged "but _they_ are all together; and I am happy for them. They are at peace, the peace I _crave_ – the only genuine _peace_" she looked at Arthur hard and breathed deep again "that we will ever truly have."

She turned to go, but reached suddenly into her cloak pocket and pulled out an apple; leaning down she placed it in front of Tristan with a brief smile and left.

Rising quickly, and handing a now sleeping Maya off to Van, he made to follow her but a visibly upset Bors caught his hand "Tell her…..tell her…I am sorry…I did not know."

Tristan nodded curtly "none did."

Gawain looked at Galahad "she felt _once_…..too much I think."

The young knight nodded blindly, too upset to reply, as his brother walked him away.

0-0-0-0-0

Tristan meanwhile had caught Kit up in the back alley of the tavern.

"What happened?" he asked quietly.

"You should not wish to know; it is of no consequence." But her voice was thick with unshed tears, though she quickly swallowed them and regained her usual stony control.

He stepped forward "Kit you do not sing a song like that, and end close to tears over something of no consequence. If it is of consequence to you, then it is to me also - as your friend."

She sighed and wrapped her arms tightly around herself as she leant against the wall; now the only sign of her distress as her voice remained once again calm and her face passive "There was a sickness……a terrible sickness that came to my village. It caused a high fever, people coughed blood that frothed and they could not breathe." She stared into space before her.

"Most did not survive more than 3 days before they died – a few made it through, but nearly all perished. In one month it had all but wiped us out….." she sighed and shook her head, finally dropping her gaze to him "we lost so many people_, good_ people. A month later the Romans came – they said they came to take our best young men to be knights as payment to Rome for our past dishonour in battle." She ground her teeth and hissed.

"But there were none, all had died – a few survived, boys of 2 and 4 and an old man; none they could take. The commander was furious; so those of us that were healthy were taken as slaves, the village torched, our horses….." her voice caught "our horses killed" Arthur, who had followed along with Bors, Dagonet and Van, started as he heard her talking, knowing how important horses were to the Sarmatians – almost like family; as they believed they were returned ancestors and warriors come back to them, and help them to victory in battle.

"And the sick…..the sick…" she stopped and took another deep breath as it all came back to her, glancing at Tristan she murmured "you must forgive my uncharacteristic outburst; it has been overlong since I have been given cause to recollect this."

He dipped his head, but never spoke as she continued "the sick were….. crucified to serve "as a lesson that Rome would not be cheated of its due." She paused "We were made to watch……my parents…..my parents were two of those they…." she tailed off and closed her eyes against the remembered carnage.

Taking a deep breath and swallowing hard once more she pressed on "My sister and I were sent to Briton to be slaves for a Roman official. He was a brute…..evil. We spoke our mother tongue, the language of Sarmatia; he hated that as he could not understand us and we were forbidden, but continued even so. I was 13 and…." She could not say the name "my sister was 11. They knew punishing _me_ held no fear; they had beaten me to a standstill often and had raped me on one occasion, and still I would not bend or break." She spoke defiantly and her chin tilted.

Though almost immediately her shoulders sagged "but I loved my sister very much; I tried to protect her, to shield her from the worst of their treatment. Because of that they knew I loved her dearly, that I would die for her…………they knew, and I failed her" she stopped and stared up once more "they said they would punish her to teach me a lesson…they……cut out her tongue so we could not speak together. But the wound became infected and she could not work, so they raped her and then cut her throat."

She sighed "I was then married off to another Sarmatian slave of 15, Ihsan – for a while we were happy, and I learnt to love him; he was good to me. At 14 I had my daughter…Tabiti." She smiled sadly "she was such a good baby. But they had many girls in the village and our owner tired of them – so, when she was 2 he decided to have a 'cull', as he put it, of the worthless. All the sick and old were put to death along with all the girls under 5…..I fought for her so hard, they beat me so badly to subdue me that I was in the healing room for a month. But it was for naught, I failed her as I had failed my sister, and they cut her throat." Gawain, who had returned with Galahad, had to clasp a hand over his friend and brother's mouth to stifle the expletive, and Arthur rubbed a hand over his eyes.

Lancelot looked round to see Van had turned to cling to Bors, their faces as horrified as his own.

"My husband lost his mind, he too had fought for her, but had been knocked unconscious; by the time he came round she was dead and I was gone. He was only 17, did not understand and they had moved him beside her and left him lying in her blood.

He was only to bury her as they would not allow us to follow our custom of burning; they said it "went against the Holy mother church". When I was finally able to return to him he was sick; he had not been eating, was not sleeping and taunted the guards at every chance – I think in the hope they would kill him. Finally our owner tired of him; one day a roman soldier came and said that as a favour to me because he admired my….." she smiled bitterly "strength of character" he would do me a favour. Before I could react he took Ihsan's head.

So I bided my time – I was taken to Rome; used as his and his friends….slave, though I was raped four times in total." she shut her eyes for a moment "then we returned to Briton. I took it, whatever they did to me – nothing mattered anymore; I learnt to shut off.

After I escaped a few years later, I cut my number off" she indicated the large scar on the top her arm "and found other slaves who had escaped from him and other Romans like him. We went back and killed him and his men, and it was then in just _that_ moment I found a measure of serenity." She smiled that cold, happy smile that made the others chill.

"I realised then I had a knack for killing, I had a taste for it – to know their blood atoned for my family, for my village, for other innocents they had slaughtered. But over the years my friends died in various battles and eventually I was alone. Finally I could be content because there was no one but me.

She stared hard at the sky "I will not mourn my family, my village or my friends; they are _free_ and I am content to be alone" she turned to the scout, who had not torn his eyes from her the whole time "So now you know." She shrugged.

She turned and went to leave, but as she drew level with him a green apple appeared before her; she took it, swallowed her tears that had sprung immediately to her eyes, and went to dip her head in thanks…but felt his mouth next to her ear, his warm breath against her skin "I suffered such loss also… I vow you will never be alone while I breathe." She felt a wet hand grab hers and looked down to see his bloody palm clamped to her own.

She turned slightly and leant her forehead to his "Thank you." he watched her walk away, collecting Maya from Van as she went. It took all his willpower not to follow her……

The others dispersed, Galahad deliberately shouldering into Arthur as he as passed muttering about 'bastard Romans and their filthy ways'. The rest merely avoided their commander……_he_ went in search of Kit.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

He found her in her room humming the song once more as Maya drifted back to sleep.

He leant on the doorframe "Do you hate me?"

She never turned "Still listening at doors, I see. Why should I; because you are half roman?"

He smiled at her first comment, but replied more seriously "Aye."

"You hate yourself enough for all right now Arthur; my animosity would be wasted."

"Should I not hate myself? Galahad hates me; I know, I see it……all the others do too, they only conceal it better."

She did look at him then "Tristan does not….none of them do. As for the pup – he only hates what you _represent_; he is loyal to _you_. Right now he is angry at Rome's betrayal, and thee is the messenger of that betrayal – that is all."

"You are a very wise woman."

She chuckled "I have been called many things in my life, but 'wise woman' is not one of them."

He smiled also "You will ride with us on the morrow?"

"Aye, when I have settled this one with Van." She rolled her eyes at Maya "that will be a moment of fun in itself – she still has not forgiven me for the last time. But I will ride out later; I do not think the little cleric will want a woman riding with thee."

"Cleric?"

"Aye the little bearded man that came with the bishop."

"Why would he come?"

"To make sure you do not all make a break for freedom." She shook her head "Arthur, Rome is withdrawing from this land – that is why they want this Alecto. Rome is an empire on its knees" she walked up to him and looked into his eyes "But I pray to the Goddess you find whatever peace you seek there." She patted his arm "Now I must sleep and so should you. Get drunk if you have to – sleep is sleep, no matter how it is obtained."

He shook his head "I will sleep without the aid of ale."

"Nay, you will pace your room all night and condemn yourself for a thing you could not have known or controlled." She pushed him out and shut the door……..he ended up doing just as she had said.

Come the morning when he had only had a little sleep he could do naught but smile ruefully as he realised she'd been right.

"Witch!" he shook his head as he made his way to the stables.


	8. North

**_Disclaimer: As Chapter One; so please, for the love of _God, _do not make me keep writing it out people!_**

_**WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE AND SOME SEXUAL REFERENCES (though not too graphic) SO READ AT YOUR OWN PERIL. **_

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**OUTCASTS**_

**_Chapter Eight – North_**

The next morning Kit was up at dawn and waited only long enough for the others to ride out before she went to join them. Van was waiting for her "You be a good girl for auntie Van alright Maya and I will be back as soon as I can."

Maya grizzled "do not let bad men take our Daggy, Tisan or Lanlot mamma." She patted Kit's arm worriedly.

Van blanched "Oh Goddess!" she exclaimed.

"Van calm yourself – she trails me everywhere, and was probably around when we spoke of your dream that is all…." It was her turn to pat Van on the arm in comfort "Anyway, I will let no harm befall our Daggy, Tisan or Lanlot." She jested.

Van smiled wanly "Aye, I know…but…all the same."

"They _will_ be safe; I vowed it, did I not? Anyway, if aught happened to Tristan who would understand my apple obsession; who would prove that men have a heart if not a brain if aught befell Dagonet, and who else would prove that men _can_ think _only _with their dick's and naught else if Lancelot perished?"

Van did laugh then "Your humour is showing."

"Aye well, it has good cause." She put her arms briefly around both Van and Maya "now you be a good girl for auntie Van while mamma is gone and I might bring you back a present, like…" she thought for a moment " A Woad's head…..or, better still, a _roman's_." she released them quickly and mounted up; she did not look back as she rode away.

Van looked at Maya "she called herself mamma sweetness…..she called _herself_ your mamma, she ain't done that afore has she?" she hugged the little girl and made her way back to her home before asking her the dreaded question "Where was Daggy when you saw him go away Maya?"

"On white stuff with his _big_ axe."

"Lanlot?"

"Helped lady….thing in here." She pointed to her chest and then pulled a face "I din't like blue lady."

"and Tisan?"

"Don' know."

"Was there fighting?" Van asked, remembering her own dream "Men running around?"

The little girl nodded "he looked at the sky like mamma does, and hawky was there." She waved the little wooden hawk in Van's pale face.

"Dear Goddess……………oh, gods….gods…make them safe….please…_please…._" Picking up on Van's distress Maya began to grizzle.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

As she reached the gate Kit was stopped by the bishop "and where are you going?" he glared.

"Out….what does it look like."

"I have plans for you." he reached up to her.

"I have no doubt you do….but let me help thee keep to your vows." She kicked out with her boot, sending him sprawling before glancing up "OPEN THE GATES! I RIDE WITH THE KNIGHTS!"

The guards did as she bid……

As she rode away Germanius scrambled to his feet "Why let her out! Did you not hear me? I wished her to be kept here!"

One of the guards, the one who had asked Bors if she had sung the night before, who also remembered hearing about her story from another who heard the knights discussing it, shrugged "we did not hear you….anyways, whether you like or her not you have to respect her loyalty to them."

The bishop stormed away cursing.

The guard turned to his comrade "you would not think a bishop would know words like that….."

"Nay….or that many."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

It did not take her too long to catch them up….Arthur was the first to realise she was there, riding through the trees along side them; he smirked as the cleric, Horton, nearly died of fright when he saw her "There is a woman there! She has _swords!_ _Two_ of them!"

"What of it?" Lancelot glared at him.

"Aye, that is our Kit – she will not harm you" Bors put in before adding evilly "unless you piss us off; right fond of us she is and a real demon with them bloody swords." An arrow whistled past Horton's ear "and her bow too…"

"Kit…do not torment the man so!" called Gawain with a grin, as Horton began to whimper.

"KITTY!" Arthur called out trying not to smile "come forth!" An arrow narrowly missed his ear.

"Call me that again and I will not miss next time" was the muttered reply as she came into view and rode with him.

"I am surprised you did _that_ time, and you say you are an archer!"

"It is my skill that saved you; a poorer aim would have took your eye out."

The others rolled their eyes at their jesting; Bors could not believe her calm acceptance of their fate and said so. "It is alright for her!" sneered a still angry Galahad "she is no slave to Rome like we……if she wishes to cut and run, she can! She is like Arthur, no slave such as I!"

A sword appeared at his throat "Three things you will do well to remember _pup_." He flinched "one – I _was_ a slave and I still well remember what it is like to be a _real_ one.

Two – Arthur is as tied by his vow as thee; he can no more leave than you, more importantly he _would_ never leave thee and you know it. Nor would you leave him to his fate, despite your posturing.

Three - and though final, it is _the_ most important fact; I _never_ 'cut and run' from _aught._" The point pressed a little harder "Be thankful I am in a good mood this day _pup_, or you would no longer be part of the pack." She rode back into the undergrowth.

Bors nodded at Horton "see what happens when you piss her off? And she likes _him_…." There was a derisive snort from the trees "well, _most_ of the time."

Horton shuddered. There _were_ demons here, just as he had been told - and one was amongst them.

Arthur merely smiled as Gawain shook his head at a now severely sulky Galahad "You should not rouse her so Gal…..no one can irritate her like you do."

Kit rode on and met up with Tristan – at first he was aware she was there, but could not see her; then an apple hit him on the side of the head, he caught it before it hit the ground.

He heard a chuckle to his right and turned to see her riding out from behind a tree "and you say you have no sense of humour."

"Aye, it is comical is it not, the way it bounced off your hair?"

He bit into the apple…………and suddenly tossed one at her, hitting _her_ on the side of the head "aye, it _is_ amusing - I can see that now."

They rode on with a grin at each other – the others heard him chuckling as she explained about Galahad on their return. Gawain and Dag exchanged a smile.

0-0-0-0-0

It was later as they came through a wooded area that all began to feel fidgety, Kit had rode on to scout and give Tristan a break, and at first they thought it was her watching them…..but Tristan saw more now "Woads. They re tracking us." He muttered.

Arthur looked around "Where?"

"Everywhere." 

A Woad crawled through the underbrush by the trees, spooking the knights horses. Suddenly they were all alert, and then arrows shot out blocking their path.

"Get back!" Lancelot shouted as Bors followed also calling "Get back!"

They tried to find an alternate route through the forest, but every time their path was totally blocked; eventually they were cornered and completely surrounded by Woads. All Tristan could think was that he was glad Kit was not there.

Another arrow narrowly missed Dagonet, that path also led to another dead end.

Arthur began to lose his temper and shouted to the others "This way!"

They followed him in another direction, with him leading - but came upon yet another dead end. Woads appeared and started jabbing at the knights with spears; they turned in another direction – but another dead end.

Arthur drew Excalibur, as the others drew their own weapons; all knew it was time to fight - there were no more ways to flee. Horton merely gibbered prayers.

Suddenly a horn blew in the distance…..the Woads hesitated and looked round. Kit came riding up and, cutting them down from the rear, saw the one Arthur had spared – 'pick it up' Woad as she called him – he had an arrow aimed at Arthur's head; she aims one of her own at him. Just as she was about to let fly he dipped down in disappointment and anger as he lowered his bow and the horn sounded once more and they all began to leave.

Gawain could not understand it "What are you waiting for!"

The other Woads too, lowered their bows and weapons and began to retreat; however, the knights still had their weapons ready and continued to look around for more Woads in case it was merely another part of their trap. Kit let the arrow loose on one and dropped a man in front of 'pick it up'. He glared angrily at her as she stared stonily back.

"Inish! Devil ghosts!" Dagonet spat.

Galahad was as confused as the others "Why would they not attack?"

"Merlin does not want us dead." Arthur mused.

"The real question is - why?" Kit asked calmly as she rode up, pulling her arrows casually out of the Woads she had killed. Horton grimaced "does thee know how much time these take to make?"

"I am a man of God…not war."

"Aye…I can see you are something…I hesitate to call it man; even the pup there has more mettle than thee."

"_I_ do not _kill_ for a living as _he _does." The cleric sniffed haughtily.

A second later her blade was at his throat "He killed to live – no mercenary is he, none here are. Without him, _man of God_, you would have to do your own dirty work."

A hand nudged her blade "leave it, it is of no consequence." Tristan nodded at her and held out an apple "Better to cut that and eat it, than him." They all smirked as Horton shuddered.

"Aye…mayhap you are right, it would certainly be tastier."

"You eat _human flesh_?" the cleric asked horrified.

"Nay" Kit replied calmly, and he sighed with relief; before she added straight faced "but there is always a first time."

They rode on…..all grinning as the little man continued to offer up increasingly frightened and fervent prayers.

0-0-0-0-0

That night they stopped to make camp. Kit sat over to one side staring at the fire and Galahad came and stood by her "What is it pup?" she asked without looking up.

He started slightly "How did you know it was me?"

"You shuffle your feet when you are nervous or are trying to get me to notice you – no one else does it."

"DO they not? What of Gawain?"

"He clears his throat when he wishes to get someone's attention."

"Bors?"

"Mumbles."

"Dagonet?"

"Just says my name."

"Arthur."

She ignored the commander who was listening intently "he grumbles."

"I do not!"

She flashed a smile at the fire, but ignored Arthur "and he is as easy to provoke as thee." She paused "he grumbles only when he does not listen."

"You make me sound like a common eves-dropper."

"See? A grumble……"

Arthur rolled his eyes and stalked off, but Lancelot saw the mirth in them - Galahad smirked but then sobered "Do you hate me?"

"You often ask me that; why would I?" dark blue eyes finally regarded him.

"You tried to kill me this day."

"Nay, I never _try_ – if I had wished thee dead, trust me pup, your head would now be resting some distance from your shoulders."

"But you hate me?"

"Nay – you irritated me, but that was then and this is now."

"You defended me also…why?"

"You are my friend – _I_ can criticise you, not him. He knows thee not – without thee he would be forced to fight, and well we all know the outcome to _that_." Galahad chuckled.

"Gawain says I provoke you."

"Aye, he speaks true – but that is between us, the runt has no say here." She dropped her gaze and moved over, Galahad took the hint the conversation was finished. As soon as he moved away an apple appeared on the ground before her "You keep giving me your apples and you will have none left for yourself, scout." But she took it all the same.

"Aye and I can see you worry for that the way you devour it." Tristan smirked.

"I have not any left to return the favour." She admitted, holding out the half eaten fruit to him.

He pushed her hand away "I will put it on account."

Lancelot made kissing noises at Dag who dipped his head and chuckled. Kit looked at him "Lancelot, you are cruelly depriving a village somewhere of an idiot."

Bors laughed out loud and the others all sniggered; Lancelot snorted derisively "I would agreed with you Kit, but then we would both be wrong."

She rolled her eyes "Breathe the other way, please Lancelot. Your opinions are rotting my hair."

He spluttered as Arthur stepped in "enough, enough you two! Lancelot you will not win a war of words with her…"

"He would not win _any_ war with me…." Kit interrupted.

Arthur rolled his eyes "Why do you persist in provoking him?"

"Because he is as easy as you and Galahad?"

Arthur grimaced as he too moved off to placate the irritated knight, although all could see Lancelot had found it amusing too.

Tristan sat next to her once more "Do you miss them muchly?"

She nodded, knowing he was speaking of her family "Aye…but they are at peace." She stared at the sky "I will join them when it is my time. I have tried, but failed, before."

He stared quizzically at her and she shook her head "it matters not…it matters not."

He gripped her shoulder "All about you matters to me." He left.

She sat, her hand resting on the spot he had touched; before turning in for the night. Unaware that the scout rested only a few feet from her….her still form the last thing he saw before he too gave in to sleep.


	9. Marius

**_Disclaimer: As Chapter One; so please, for the love of _God, _do not make me keep writing it out people!_**

_**Checked on the internet and from 200BC roman zoos were on the increase, they actually existed from 29BC but were only for the roman emperor at that time, it wasn't for another 181 years that they became the domain of the public as well. As Michael Caine would say "not many people know that"! LOL!**_

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**OUTCASTS**_

**_Chapter Nine – Marius_**

Kit was up and about before dawn the next morning – the knights rose to the smell of cooking rabbit.

"Cannot fault a woman who is a hunter too!" smirked Bors as she handed him some and then handed some more off of the other two she was cooking to the others.

"You never told me what Tristan does to get your attention….." Gal nodded at the scout as he took his share.

"Naught."

"What?"

"Naught; simple as that."

"But how do you know it is him?"

"Because I have yet to meet anyone else who can be that still and yet I still know they are there." She handed some meat to Tristan.

He took it with a nod "You still owe me."

"I will not forget…." They exchanged a look.

"I think he wants more than an apple back…." Smirked Lancelot.

Horton wrinkled his nose "You should not covet such fruit so - an apple was what tempted Eve, and through it she used her womanly wiles to bring about the downfall of Adam."

Tristan shook his head "I would have had the apple alone."

Lancelot rolled his eyes at the cleric "the sad thing is….he would."

They all laughed…..except Horton.

Kit looked at him "_Womanly_ wiles, is that what they call it now? What of when a man seduces an innocent girl?"

"Eve was the original seducer – original sin originates there."

She arched an eyebrow "So you are saying women are to blame for all faults of man?"

Before he could answer Lancelot was falling about laughing "There you go Kit, everything I do wrong is all your fault!"

"Them rules Arthur rattles on about – wo'ts the 'ardest ones to keep?" Bors asked the little cleric.

Before either Horton or Arthur could answer Kit jumped in "The first ten commandments are the hardest."

"I thought there _were_ only ten?" she merely looked pointedly at him "Oh right….." the others laughed – even Arthur, though Horton sat stony faced. Gawain offered him some rabbit, but he wrinkled his nose and refused.

"Eat it cleric, there is naught else for you…….unless you would rather have an apple?"

Horton scowled "original seducer…condemned…." he mumbled as he reluctantly took the meat and moved away from Kit with a look as if she was dirty.

The others saw and bridled until she spoke "personally the apple would be worth it."

"Agreed." Tristan flashed a smile at her.

The little cleric moved even further away muttering about heretics.

Arthur thanked Kit for the meat as she looked on at the others riling Tristan about his apple obsession, which he took good-naturedly being well used to their teasing – and certainly more tolerant of it lately Gawain himself noted.

She nodded at the commander "Feeling less like you should persecute yourself this day?"

He shrugged "Aye….I suppose. But this mission still sits badly with me."

"Aye well as Madoc told me, he was a friend who helped me fight my old owner" she added at Arthur's enquiring look "he said that we should always make the best of a bad situation."

"He may well speak true. So what is the best of this situation; for I have yet to see it?"

She shrugged "I get to kill a few Woads, have a mission with some new friends before they leave, and if I can assist a few Romans to die I would not be sorry." She flashed a smile at him "present company accepted."

"Glad to hear it. Kit, I….."

Tristan moved to her side "Apparently whatever we do now it is your fault."

"Lancelot?" he nodded and she rolled her eyes "the runt has a lot to answer for" she moved her hands to her blades "we could always say he fell foul of the Woads."

Tristan shook his head "Arthur would never allow it."

His commander nodded in agreement "though I agree he is indeed an irritation."

She walked away shaking her head "and men say they never understand women."

"Come to use your 'womanly wiles' on me?" Lancelot smirked as she passed.

She barely glanced at him "Only in my wildest nightmares."

"Oh I am cut to the heart – truly, you have hurt me immensely." He clutched his chest "You know I could not live without you now."

"Really?" Large blue eyes swung to him "If you truly cannot live without me, why are thee not dead already?"

He gasped in mock outrage once more as she rode off "Kit, you are a HARPY!" he called finally at her retreating back.

"Sit down, Lancelot, give your mind a rest - it obviously needs it." Was the bored reply.

"WENCH!"

She merely raised a hand in…well, he hoped it was farewell, but you could never tell with her.

The others were falling about "You will never beat her Lance, give it up!" Chortled Bors.

The dark knight scowled as they all mounted up and rode on.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

It was later that morning they rode up to Marius' Honorius' estate; the villagers, if you could call some malnourished slaves that, gathered close to the path as the a mercenary stood on the battlements ordered the gates closed then shouted down to them "Who are you?"

Kit had stayed close to the trees but saw Arthur rein in his horse as he called out "I am Arthur Castus, commander of the Sarmatian knights and sent by Bishop Germanius of Rome. Open the gate!"

They opened the gates as the slaves watched on in awe; Marius came out accompanied, Kit noticed curiously, by several mercenaries…….why should this man need bodyguards against Arthur?

The Roman strode purposefully over to Arthur and the others "It is a wonder you have come! Good Jesus! Arthur and his knights."

The others looked on in distaste as he reached up to pet Galahad's horse, only for the animal to jerk its head away so sharply that the young knight had to take a moment to calm it. Kit smirked at the idiotic roman and wondered whether she could kill him without too much fuss, but decided against it……for now.

Marius looked uncomfortable at the angry glares and turned once more to Arthur "You have fought the Woads? Vile creatures."

Arthur ignored him and merely replied "Our orders are to evacuate you immediately."

The fat roman looked around nervously before stuttering "Th-That is impossible!"

Arthur did not reply, only looked around before calling out "Which is Alecto?"

A young dark haired, deeply serious (Kit would haveve said boring) young boy of about 15/16 summers stood on the wall "I am Alecto." 

Marius swelled with importance and Kit rolled her eyes "Alecto is my son. And everything we have is here in the land given to us by the Pope of Rome."

Lancelot too rolled his eyes, his sharp retort causing Kit to smirk "Well, _you_ are about to give it to the _Saxons_."

"They are invading from the north." Arthur added.

The roman dismissed this "Then Rome will send an army."

All the others snorted derisively as Arthur retorted in irritation "They have. Us. We leave as soon as you are packed."

Marius puffed himself up once more belligerently "I refuse to leave." 

Silence greeted this statement as Alecto began to walk towards the knights from his behind his father – Kit nooked an arrow, there was no way they were not leaving….dead and slung over horses would do just as well as alive.

The roman turned to his slaves "Go back to work! All of you! Get back to work!"

The mercenaries copied his orders shoving and yelling at the slaves to get on. She could see Arthur was not happy at their treatment "Just get the milksop child and leave Arthur….." she mumbled.

One of the slaves who seemed to have a bit more of a backbone rounded on one of the romanic animals "All right, all right!"

There was more barking of orders by the roman and his henchmen as the slaves began to reluctantly return to what they were doing.  
Arthur dismounted and stalked over to Marius who stepped back alarmed – and with good cause Kit felt; Arthur's whole stance was one of angry irritation. "If I fail to bring you and your son back, my men can never leave this land." He gritted his teeth, to check his rising temper "So you are coming with me if I have to tie you to my horse and drag you all the way to Hadrian's Wall myself." He bowed mockingly and Kit smiled "My lord."

He turned to a woman stood between Marius and the boy Alecto. "Lady, my knights are hungry."

She looked worriedly at the roman and Kit assumed, correctly, that it must be his wife. The fear on her face made the younger woman bridle….she knew that look all too well.

"Go!" he barked at her, eager it seemed to vent his anger at being thwarted on someone easier to bully. There then proceeded a brief staring match between he and Arthur – Arthur won as the roman stalked off barking to his some to come, like some dog.

Arthur stared around at the surrounding land and his gaze landed on a strange building of rock with a torch outside it. Kit did not like it…..she had seen a dungeon like that before

Bors called out to his commander "Come. Let us go." But Arthur was not listening, he was looking at the slaves - the large man's eyes followed his leader's watched as the other man made his way over to them, drawing Excalibur as he went. Bors realised what he was doing and sighed as he drew his sword as well and dismounted to follow.

The plucky slave went to Arthur, marching quickly along with him – gabbling as he went "Sir. You are famous! You are Arthur, are you not? I am Ganis, I am a good fighter and I am smart. I would serve you proudly." Kit smirked again, enterprising little serf he was.

One of the monks stopped Bors and asked hopefully "Are you from Rome?"

"From hell." Bors shoved past him without looking.

The other man pulled back in horror.

The one called Ganis was still trying to press his point with Arthur who interrupted him, pointing at an old man with his sword who was tied up, beaten and hanging from some poles "Who is this man?"

"He is our village elder."

Arthur stared at the old man "What is this punishment for?" No one replied "Answer me!"

By now a large crowd of slaves were gathering around this strange soldier, but all were too afraid to speak.

Ganis pointed at the Marius' house "He defied our master, Marius.  
Most of the food we grow is sent out by sea to be sold. He asked to keep a little more for ourselves, that is all." He paused but decided he had naught more to lose "My arse has been snappin' at the grass, I am so hungry!" he bridled finally "You are from Rome! Is it true that Marius is a spokesman for God? And that it is a sin to defy him?"

Alecto, who had stayed along with some mercenaries stood silently watching as Arthur took one more look at the beaten old man and turned to the slaves, he pointed Excalibur at Ganis and the crowd became nervous and stepped back – Kit ground her teeth, knowing too well what brutal treatment they had suffered to induce fear like that.

"I tell you now!" he called out "Marius is not of God. And you - all of you - were free from your first breath." He hacked the old man free. "Help this man." They were all too afraid as they stared at his sword and the mercenaries "Help him!" A few finally came forward to help the ailing man up.

Arthur carried on "Now hear me. A vast and terrible army is coming this way. They will show no mercy, spare no one. Those of you who are able should begin to gather your things and move south, towards Hadrian's Wall.

Those unable shall come with us." He turned to Ganis "You. Serve me now. Gather these people."

The young man rounded on the others "Right! You heard him! You go grab enough food and water for the journey. Let's get a hurry on or else we're all dead!"

0-0-0-0-0-0

A short while later Tristan rode in, and Kit was relieved to see him. The slaves were packing their caravan and the mercenaries were nagging the monks to finish blocking up the door to the dungeon.

Tristan reported to Arthur and it was not good "They have flanked us to the east; they are coming from the south, trying to cut off our escape." He was out of breath "They will be here before nightfall."

His commander frowned "How many?" 

The scout did not flinch "An entire army."

"And the only way out is to the south?"

Tristan shook his head "East. There is a trail, heading east. Across the mountains. It means we will have to cross behind the Saxon lines, if that is the road we shall take." He finally caught his breath and looked around at all the activity by the slaves "Arthur, who are these people?" 

"They are coming with us."

"Then we will never make it." Tristan smiled.

Arthur looked down solemnly but the scout knew he would not leave them. He looked up and heard the pounding of Saxon drums; the other knights also turned along with Kit and the Romans.

But then they started harrying the monks to work faster. Kit knew any more delays would slow them further – but if that dungeon was like the one she had come from………she let out a low whistle causing Arthur to look over to where he knew she was; but it also drew his attention back to the building.

He rode over drawing his sword as he went, the was a brief altercation between him and the mercenaries but as soon as the other knights came over they backed down. Kit smirked when Lancelot's horse snorted loudly and snottily in one mercenaries face "Good lad!" she chuckled.

There was another altercation this time not only with Marius, but also Lancelot and Galahad but Arthur's will was done and Dagonet broke down the door.

Gawain, Lancelot and Arthur went down into the structure; they took a monk with them….

0-0-0-0-0-0

When they returned they all looked sick; Lancelot angrily threw his torch into the snow.

Arthur carries a woman and called for some water as he put her on the ground. Dagonet was carrying a little boy; their commander put the woman on the ground as the others came out of the little doorway. Gawain pushed the monks forward of him in disgust as the villager called Ganis brought some water for him to give her, she choked slightly but Kit was already turning her attention to Dag who was giving some to the boy.

The little cleric bent over the child and muttered in horror "his arm is broken; and his family?"

Kit remained stony faced as Dagonet shook his head. She then glanced at Tristan as he sheathed his word and watched "she is Woad."

Arthur ignored him and spoke to her "I am a Roman officer. You are safe now."

She tried to feel his cloak, though kit wondered why as Arthur reassured her once more "You are safe..."

The fat man, Marius marched up "Stop what you are doing!"

Arthur glared at him "What is this madness!"

The roman was furious "They are all Pagans here!"

"So are we." Galahad ground out darkly.

Marius ignored him and continued ranting at Arthur "They refuse to do the task God has set for them! They must die as an example!"

Kit's hands itched to knock an arrow or swing her blade…….either way would be a good way to kill him; though she favoured being up close and personal as she separated his head from his shoulders with her sword.

His wife hurried forward and tried to help the young woman as Arthur angrily rounded on him "You mean they refused to be your _serfs_!"

Marius was obviously shocked that another roman did not understand "You are a Roman. You understand. And you are a _Christian_!" he added hotly; he suddenly saw his wife comforting the Woad "You! _You_ kept them alive! "" he slapped her, knocking her to the ground.

Before Kit let loose the arrow she had knocked Arthur had already punched him to the ground. She flashed a dry smile; it was nice to see the normally controlled commander losing his temper, especially as he grabbed Excalibur and held it to the man's neck. _'do it!'_ she thought _'do it and save me a chore later, for if ever one would be trouble it will be he.'_

The mercenaries stepped forward, but Marius panicked "Nay, nay! Stop!" he squealed; he looked at Arthur "When we get to the Wall, you will be punished for this heresy."

Kit looked on coolly _'Aye, such a clever thing to do - threaten the man holding a blade to your throat that, should you live, he will be punished; Goddess, what an idiot!'_

Arthur grabbed him and pressed the point of both his sword and his argument home "Perhaps I should kill you now and seal my fate." _'Aye, I bloody would_' Kit thought _"any mad dog would be put down._'

However the moment was lost as one of the, obviously insane, monks started rambling avidly at them "I was willing to die with them. Aye, to lead them to their rightful place. It is God's wish that these sinners be sacrificed. Only then can their souls be saved."

Kit rolled her eyes at his pathetic words, but then smiled thinly as Arthur turned and mildly, but chilling replied "Then I shall grant His wish." He turned to the knights "Wall them back up."

Tristan doubted they had enough time, far better to kill them "Arthur." His voice held a warning.

However their leader was not to be dissuaded on this "I _said_, wall them up!"

Bors sighed and urged his horse forward; the insane monk, now half sobbing merely wailed "Do you not see it is the will of God these sinners be sacrificed!"

The serfs, seeing that there was someone here now that might be on their side, rushed forward and started shoving the monks back into the building; drowning out the insane one now shouting "These sinners! These sinners!"

Kit saw the Woad had passed out "weakling!" she muttered and spat heavily into the dirt, she urged her own horse forward to Horton "this is all my fault too I suppose?"

He glared and marched away; she glanced at Lancelot and Tristan "some people are just so joyless….."

The dark knight laughed and the scout tossed her an apple "on account….." he mumbled.

"I am running up quite a debt…."

"Do not worry; I doubt we will live long enough to settle it."

They shared a smile as Lancelot rolled his eyes "you two are the only ones I know that could joke about bloody dying!"

"No one will die this day!" called Arthur, his face still a mask of anger.

"Someone's got his dander up." Lancelot smirked "I say kill the Romans and the sick, take the boy, tell the villagers the right way to go and leave."

Kit shook her head "that is what most would do – _he_ will not." she nodded at Arthur.

"As you did not kill Maya, are we to assume you are on Arthur's side."

She shook her head "the boys could ride….or you could put the injured one across the back of your horse – either way he could be brought back. As to the others, show them the way and let them march on their own; I reckon they would make it. Why bother your freedom helping people when it is so close?"

"When you put it like that you make us sound like……." Galahad stopped.

"Like what pup - me? Tristan? Mayhap then the animals are taking over the zoo." She rode off.

Gawain slapped his brother on the back with a grin "well done Gal, you have upset her again – you seem very skilled at that."

"I cannot even piss of my Van as much he does our Kit." Bors smirked as they helped the others start packing up.

"She has probably gone off to kill something." the young knight muttered, but Gawain could see he felt bad.

"Go and apologise…she will forgive you – eventually." He smirked.

"Later, when it is safe – I do not want to be the thing she ends up killing."

It was only Arthur and Tristan who saw what she was really doing……..


	10. Camp

**_Disclaimer: As chapter one please don't keep making me write it out – life's too short and I get tired!_**

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**OUTCASTS**_

**_Chapter Ten – Camp_**

Arthur and Tristan watched as she took her water skin out and went to the old man, offering him some of it "you'm have a long walk ahead old man – it is better to be prepared as Arthur has insisted on sparing you."

He drank thirstily and eyed her gratefully "nay, do not thank me – I think only of myself; he insists on bringing you and I wish to return in one piece."

As she turned she saw the commander and his scout looking at her in mild amusement "as I told the old man, I care only for myself; make no more than that of it." She warned sternly.

Arthur smiled at her retreating back "methinks under that stone like exterior lays a soft heart, Tris."

"Aye, mayhap you are right Arthur – but then she speaks true, so mayhap you are also wrong." He gestured to the other knights "best not say aught; they would never let her forget – especially Lancelot."

Arthur nodded with a chuckle "Aye, as you say – I do not want to be burying him yet!"

They readied to leave and soon found themselves back on the road. It was a worry that they had to cross behind the Saxon lines but needs must when the demons drove you. All they could hope for was their presence went undetected.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Time passed and they found themselves moving along better than expected. However, it was still a lot slower than it would have been without all the extra people and Kit told Arthur so.

"Aye Kit, but I would not have their deaths on my hands." He sighed.

She looked at him "what is it? Something disturbs you – is it the woad or the runt" she shrugged "I can dispatch either or both if thee wishes it."

Arthur gave a rueful smile "not all problems can be solved with killing."

"I have not found that to be the case" she arched an eyebrow "I have yet to meet a body that can argue without its head."

He chuckled "True, but surely diplomacy would be better?"

"Why, when death ends the argument more swiftly?"

"But speed is not all in a disagreement…."

"Mayhap it is not, but arguments bore me – I find killing easier." She shrugged "you go your way Arthur and I will go mine."

"One day that argument may go against you – it could be _your_ head separated from your shoulders."

"Aye and if and when that day comes, so be it."

Arthur eyed her speculatively "you are not fearful of death?"

"Nay."

"Most women would be."

"But then I am _not_ 'most women' Arthur." She flashed a rare smile and rode forward to talk to Dagonet about the boy.

Arthur watched her go, muttering quietly "nay, you most certainly are not."

0-0-0-0-0

They had set camp and Arthur had wandered into the trees following the woad. As Lancelot watched them go, so Kit sat in a branch watching him.

Finally she dropped down, snatching from him the wolf talisman that was always with him "what is this?"

He grumbled and made to grab it from her, but she quickly darted backwards; realising he had as much hope of catching her as he did Tristan he quickly gave up. "My sister gave it to me when I was taken" he slump down again against the tree trunk.

Kit inspected it closely "Tristan could do with one, he is the lone wolf amongst you."

"Aye there you are right – what make you of my singular brother?"

Kit shrugged "he is as I am, a loner; that is a good thing to be Lancelot. When you remain alone naught and no one can hurt you."

"You sound as if that is all you can hope for" the knight replied as she sat dropped down beside him.

"Aye, it is; I have learnt the hard way not to give in to sentiment." She nodded the way Arthur had gone "it seems your commander does not think without such emotion."

Lancelot rolled his eyes and smiled slightly "well, he is a Christian – what can we expect?"

"Mayhap I will have need to remind him that he is soon to be free so why tie himself to a lost cause as this."

"Are we such a lost cause, Kit?" Lancelot asked in surprise.

"Not you, dolt; I mean whatever that woad wench is up to." She nodded almost to herself "she is trouble make no mistake – if I had gone into that dungeon the only one to come out alive would have been the boy."

"Why?"

Kit shrugged "She is trouble; the boy is not and besides, Dagonet likes him."

"Arthur might like her."

Kit swung her gaze to him as she muttered darkly "aye and that is what concerns me."

She rose and made to leave, but Lancelot caught her hand "why?"

"She is out for both of you – she has been told to bed him as he is the one they want to help them, but you'm be the passionate one. Men for their part think with what is between their legs not their ears, and so that is a recipe for disaster."

"You think that if Arthur wants her I would betray him?" Lancelot was hurt she thought so little of him.

Kit for her part looked at him as if he was a particularly stupid child and leant down to whisper "Nay, of course I do not think such stupid thoughts; but _she _would not be as noble as thee. She is a wench who is well used to getting her own way and by any means – oh mayhap not recently judging by where she was found, but before that I would give good coinage as a bet.

Harpies like her sicken me" Kit he grimaced "using their sex, in more ways than one, to get what they want. Aye, to send her forward would be no hardship for me."

Lancelot nodded "then I would do well to ignore her."

"Aye and I will try to ensure your illustrious commander does the same."

She slapped his head lightly and walked away to Dagonet "Wench!" called out Lancelot, but she once more waved at him dismissively.

As she reached the giant of a knight she gave another of her infrequent smiles; he was with the boy and almost cooing over him "you will make a good father one day Dag…..in fact I think the Goddess has given you your son already." She nodded at the boy who was doing his best to snuggle up to the large warm body beside him.

Dag blushed "he is a brave lad Kit, do you not think so?"

"Aye I do" she dropped beside him "I wonder how he survived such torment?"

"Did you not do the same?"

She nodded "aye but I was older, there is a difference. How old is the boy? Six summers, seven? That is no age for the kind of butchery he has witnessed."

She glanced over at where Marius sat with his mercenaries, deep in conversation "I think this will be his last night on earth – the morrow will see him join the rest of his kind in Hades."

Dagonet glanced at the men also "you think he plans to make mischief?"

"I am as certain of that as I am of the sun rising on the morrow." She nodded.

"I will be on my guard then."

She flashed a smile and went to leave, but then suddenly turned and gripped his arm "Dagonet, if we have to fight the Saxons do not do aught stupid."

He looked surprised "what?"

"Just be careful – I gave Van my word to help you, but there is only so much I can do; no heroics agreed?"

He grinned "agreed, but you need not fear for me – I am the most unheroic man here."

"_That_ I do not believe" she tapped his chest "in here beats the heart of a good man who will always strive to do the right thing. It is that which concerns me; a noble heart is dangerous thing."

He chuckled at her "do not tell me you _care?"_

She shook her head "nay, I am merely looking out for my own hide – I gave a blood oath to protect you all; so the less the lot of you put yourselves in harm's way, the less I have to do the same."

"But you do not fear death."

"Nay, but neither do I seek it out – well, not any longer." She patted his head "you should have hair to ruffle."

"Aye, well, I am not the scout" he grinned as she walked away muttering about how she woud never ruffle _his_ hair, though in truth his braids needed attention.

Dag shared a look with Gawain, who grinned – things were going well.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Once again Kit's predictions came true; and so did Van and Maya's……to a point.

Marius fell to arrows shot by Kit, though initially the woad (apparently named Guinevere) tried to take credit until Gawain put them straight.

Kit mumbled something to Marius' wife and then went to Dag. "You fare well?" She asked as she checked him over, tugging the large knight this way and that to ensure he was unhurt.

"Aye, any blood is not my own" he grinned.

"As it should be; and Van will not have mine then" her eyes held his with mirth in them, for Van's temper was well known. She then turned to the boy "and you little man, how fares you?"

"I fare well my lady." He looked at the female warrior before him and tried to bow.

A finger lifted his chin; defiant dark blue eyes held his hazel ones "dip no head or knee to one that has not earned the privilege boy. You are a warrior's son I have no doubt, for you have the heart and soul of a fighter – else you would not survive the ills that have befallen you thus far. So do not bend yourself before anyone who as not earned the respect of such a warrior as you."

The boy's eyes glowed with pride as she smirked and ruffled his hair "and as for me, I am no lady – nor do I wish to be one. I am as you are - a warrior."

"I respect you….ummm…." he didn't know what to call her.

"Kit, you can call me Kit."

"I respect you Kit."

"Then I am honoured little man." She dipped her head to him, something she rarely did. The boy puffed up with pride.

"My name is Lucan."

"Look after the big one for me Lucan, for I have much work taking care of as many dolts as these."

The boy chuckled and nodded, darting to back to Dagonet. The large knight smiled and mouthed "thank you." She shook her head and moved to Tristan who had ridden in.

Bors looked up at the scout "How many did you kill?"

Tristan barely glanced at him "Four."

Bors laughed "Not a bad start to the day."

Tristan dropped a vicious looking crossbow at Arthur's feet "Armour piercing. They are close; we have no time."

Arthur scowled "You ride ahead."

Tristan nodded and rode off. Kit mounted up and followed, Arthur arched an eyebrow "where are you off to?"

"Four eyes are better than two if they are so close – I ride with him."

"He prefers to work alone."

She shrugged "I care not; there is no point us dying because of his pride."

As she rode off, Arthur smiled "she has a spirit that I say would be unquenchable."

"Aye she's a rare bird." Bors grinned "reminds me of my Van."

"What sorrows me is what has caused her to be so distant." Dag added as he lifted Lucan into the wagon.

The boy looked back at him "she has lost everyone she loved."

Lancelot eyed the small boy "how do you know?"

Lucan sighed as he disappeared from view "her eyes are as sad as mine - deep down; you have to look hard to see."

"Or be as hurt, eh boy?" Dagonet rumbled to him as he ruffled his hair. Lucan didn't answer, which said more than mere words could ever do.

Of course no one was aware of the heartache to come; or what Kit's reaction would be to it.


	11. Idiotic Stand

_**Disclaimer**__**: As chapter one please don't keep making me write it out – life's too short and I get tired!**_

_**All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.**_

'_**Thoughts'**_

"**Speech"**

_**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**_

_**OUTCASTS**_

_**Chapter Eleven – Idiotic Stand**_

Tristan waited a little further up the track, knowing she would follow "I can manage on my own. I have scouted for Arthur for years alone; go back wench, you will only be another body to watch for." He grumbled as she caught up.

"Aye" she arched an eyebrow "Arthur said your pride would blind you, good thing I am here then – we would not wish a Saxon arrow making the blindness permanent."

Dark eyes swung to her "Arthur said that?"

"Well, something like it; I merely filled in what he was _not_ saying."

"Wench." The scout muttered knowing she was toying with him.

"I see your powers of observation are as sharp as ever" she noted mildly as she nudged her horse forward.

A smile ghosted the scout's features before he shook his head and, schooling his face back into its usually impenetrable mask, he followed her up the track in silence.

0-0-0-0-0-0

It was only a few hours later that they caught up to the main column again. The only way back was across a frozen lake, it was insanity with the Saxons now so close behind them – but Tristan was adamant there was no other way and Kit was forced to agree with him, despite the misgivings deep in the pit of her belly. She had a very bad feeling about this.

As they crossed, it soon became clear that the Saxons were gaining on them. Kit sighed in irritation, it was to be expected; an army of healthy men used to these conditions, would make more ground than a rag tag bunch of half starved and sick serfs and a few wagons.

After a few minutes of trying to cross the ice, even with everyone out of the wagons and walking, it was obvious they would not get too much farther without having to face the Saxons.

"Knights?" Arthur looked at his friends and brothers. They all came out with nonsensical replies, except Lancelot and Tristan. The scout because he could see the necessity of battle and accepted it, and the dark knight because he would no more leave his brothers behind to face the horde than he would fly to the moon.

Kit ground her teeth "at least go a little closer to the other side" she grumbled to Arthur, as the main group went forward – she knew the best they could hope for was to buy them a little time.

Arthur sighed "we take a stand here; it is for the best Kit."

She glared at him, though her face remained passive "for whom – us...or them?"

He gestured across the lake "the ice is weakest near the middle."

"Then take a stand further back – let Dagonet hack at it with his axe,_ then _entice them out. We have a few minutes before they get here - I am happy to die in battle Arthur, but not for naught."

He merely shook his head, set on the path he had chosen. She sighed, a blood vow had been taken and she would honour it; even though she knew they were all committing suicide, because the roman would not admit to making a mistake as to where to take his 'stand'.

The woad came forward "I will fight with you" she said importantly.

Kit stared icily at her "all I ask _lady_" Guinevere flinched at the tone "is you do not get in my way with your long skirts."

She thought of what Van had said, the dream she had had and looked around. A strange fear gripped her and she turned to Dagonet "remember what I said, do naught foolish. I have enough of a headache here this day without you adding to my woes – we have no need of heroes here, only warriors; do not mistake one for the other…..agreed?"

He looked quizzically at her and nodded "I am no hero Kit, I am only me and I look to do only the right thing."

The woman beside him nodded sourly "that is what concerns me; noble gestures……." She shrugged "do naught to discourage a long life." She patted his chest "just remember not to get that big and honourable heart of yours punctured with a Saxon arrow."

He grinned and nodded "what ails you Kit, I thought you were not one to care?"

"I am not – but I have taken a blood oath to aid you and do not want to die into the bargain over so foolish a gesture as this" she swung her arm to encompass where they were "I will not perish for such an idiotic stand."

"You think Arthur wrong?" Dag frowned; Kit was like Tristan, she weighed up every bit of a plan to ensure it would work. She was not afraid of dying, but she would prefer the odds to be stacked in her favour; if she thought this was a mistake, the odds were on she was right.

She nodded "aye, I think this grand gesture of his will be our downfall. I care naught about dying in battle Dagonet, but I would prefer the death to be worth something; if we die here, what of the others then? He thinks not of the future, only the present….." she shook her head "foolish, foolish."

Dagonet shrugged "he is our commander, we follow him."

Kit frowned and muttered "aye and to the gates of Hades it would seem, and there you would drag my soul with you."

0-0-0-0-0-0

All at once the enemy was upon them; Kit had ignored the insults flowing between Lancelot and the woad. Though it was obvious the woman was trying to flirt with the dark knight, Kit decided to leave well alone; now was not the time to be dealing with that two faced little harpy.

If, by some strange luck, they survived this lunacy she would deal with the wench then. Until that time let them banter and flirt, death would deal with them anon or she would after – for now her entire mind was centred on one thing………..keeping Dagonet alive.

Deep in her heart Kit knew now that Van had the sight; and what her friend saw in that dream would come to pass, _if_she did not keep her wits about her now.

Tristan noted how she spoke in a hushed whisper to the large man beside her; saw how her entire body leaned slightly toward him, almost in protection. He did not know whether the stab he felt deep in his heart was of concern or……..something else. Either way, he had little time to analyse it as the battle commenced.

It soon became clear that Lancelot and Kit's misgivings were well founded. The spot Arthur chose _was_ too close too the middle; their dark clothing set against the white of the ice made them obvious targets, their straight line as well made them wonderfully easy to aim at.

Although Arthur's tactic of driving the Saxons toward the centre was working, it was too slow and it became apparent they would have to fight hand to hand……..and perish; for there was no way they would survive such an army with only nine of them.

As Arthur called for them to pick up their swords, Kit felt Dagonet stiffen; she knew that stance, it was the one of someone preparing for a suicidal gesture. He meant to do something extremely heroic, and yet colossally stupid.

Before even her lightening reflexes could stop him, he fairly flew out onto the ice with his axe; his roar of defiance echoing eerily round the open space of the lake, despite the shouts and yells of all those still fighting.

Tristan had been keeping one eye on Kit and Dag and one eye on the enemy so, like Kit, even before Arthur yelled to return to their bows, he had followed her and was shooting wave after wave of arrows at the Saxons; who were now trying to follow their commander's scream to kill the one with the axe.

With Kit's quiver empty she snatched some of Guinevere's, who was shooting a lot slower than her. Tristan too had quickly exhausted his supply and so took some of Bors'.

However, it was apparent the large knight was hit – one in the shoulder and once in the side. With one last superhuman effort he finally cleaved through the ice, before falling to his knee and then keeling forward into the water; a final Saxon arrow protruding from his calf.

With a howl almost resembling a wolf, Kit was already moving forward; Guinevere's arrows gone the same way as her own, her only thought was to cover him. Her entire focus was on the man now in the icy water; she had dropped her shield and did not even seem to feel the arrows that hit her in the shoulder and in the thigh.

Finally cover seemed to appear for her as Bors and Arthur arrived with shields. She had dragged the large man from the frozen water with almost the same superhuman strength he had used to finally break the ice.

A Saxon gripped his leg in a desperate attempt to save himself; but Kit brutally stabbed him again and again in the head with her dagger, until finally the man sank in a bloody red cloud down into the dark depths of the lake. Her blue fingers were barely able to hold her dagger let alone Dagonet, but sheer force of will aided her to do so.

Finally the Saxons retreated. Their losses were great and with the knowledge that they had no way to cross the ice, there was no point in fighting on; a bitter retreat was their only option.

Kit worked on the man before her heedless to the mayhem around them. Bors was rocking Dag's head in his lap, begging his friend to stay with him.

Dag's breathing became laboured and finally stopped – but Kit would not give up; she had given her word to Vanora, and she would follow this man to the gates of Hades if necessary to ensure he lived.

She began thumping his chest; a thing she had seen a healer do when she was young and a slave at a roman army camp. It had saved the soldier and she intended to do the same for Dagonet.

She couldn't remember what exactly the man had done, she had been very young then – but she knew that he thumped the chest somewhere over the heart.

So she did the same, over and over; even when they said he was dead and there was naught more she could do, she ignored them and kept on. Bors her only support as he watched her work; as unwilling as she to give up on one who was as his own brother.

Finally Dagonet took a small breath….and then another, and another, finally coughing up some water. From there Kit removed the Saxon arrows, swiftly packing the holes with pieces of cloth ripped from her shirt.

Arthur stepped forward and tried to move her, to get Lancelot or another to deal with Dagonet; concerned that her skin was almost blue with the cold . But she turned on him and snarled, hate written on her usually passive face; her dagger, still covered with Saxon blood, now back in her hand and she showing all the signs she might yet use it on _him._

The roman commander was in no doubt who she held responsible for this outcome, her whole body yelled betrayal at him. She turned her attention back to the large man – finally, when she was certain he would at least live until they reached the wall where she could do more for him, she allowed a silent Tristan to draw her up and away to remove the arrows from her own wounds.

Bors approached her after they had loaded the knight onto his horse, strapping him to it to ensure he did not fall off. "He will live Kit, do you think?" although he spoke as easily as he could, the wealth of pain and worry in his eyes all but made her flinch. She knew too well these feelings; they took her back to a dark time for her, and the reason she kept everyone at an arm's length now.

"I gave an oath to your woman that none of you would perish, that I would shed my own blood to ensure you would all live; I will keep my word if I have to follow the oaf beyond the veil to do so." She awkwardly patted the man's arm "despite this idiotic stand, all will be well Bors."

He smiled lopsidedly, the tears large in his eyes as he blinked them back. Even in the depths of his despair and elation, despair for what had happened to Dag and elation that Kit had at least brought his brother back for now, he knew better than to hug her.

Kit turned to Tristan "thank you, I fare well – we must get back quickly. The dunking he had will actually work for us; the cold seems to be slowing the bleeding, but even so speed is important."

"You are hurt too."

"Aye, I know and I will deal with mine when I know I have done all I can for him." She nodded towards Dagonet.

"I can patch you up if you wish; my stitches are not as neat as his, but they will close the holes in you." Tristan offered.

Kit nodded "I care naught for what they look like, only that they do not get infected. I would normally stitch them myself, but his needs outweigh mine. So aye, if you can work on me as I move I will agree" then almost as an afterthought she added "my thanks."

A smile ghosted Tristan's lips "I will add it to the account."

She flashed one back "and I can see I will have to find a way to repay it; apples _and_ healing."

Just then Arthur approached "Kit….?"

"What?!" she spun on him, turning from where she was about to mount her horse "he is nearly dead, I will have to do much work to ensure he does not perish; you were a proud fool, Arthur."

She took a deep steadying breath, schooling her features and voice back to their normal way; removing the loathing that, but a moment before, was written plainly across her face and soaking her voice "stay out of my sight for many a day and we might both yet live to see a new dawn."

She turned once more and mounted her horse in one fluid motion; a brief grimace the only sign of her own discomfort.

Galahad looked on with a worried frown – she looked almost as blue as Dagonet. Whilst Gal knew she had not gone into the water to the same extent as his large comrade, he knew she'd still received a fair dunking due to hauling the man out alone and then taking on the Saxon in the lake.

He looked to Tristan "she is so cold looking Tris."

"Aye, but there is little we can do here – she must wait until we return to the wall; I have packed the wounds on her, we cannot stitch and ride. But, as she said, the cold stems the bleeding so it works with us as well as against us."

Galahad nodded as the scout rode forward; he could see the sense in what Tristan had said, but he was still unhappy about it. She was not long recovered from an infected wound that had nearly killed her, now this.

Gawain picked up on his friend and brother's mood "She is naught if not a fighter Gal; I cannot see her going easily into death's cold grip. Anyway I doubt Maya would give her peace long enough to let her!"

Gal grinned; reassured at Gawain's gently teasing tone and they quickly made their way back to the fort…….and Vanora.


	12. AUTHOR'S NOTE:

My mum has died and so I won't be posting chapters for a while. I'm very sorry to let you all down. I will update as soon as I'm able.


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